


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by radiantradish



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Graduation, art grad student Suga, fireman Daichi, some language, sorta canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28235007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantradish/pseuds/radiantradish
Summary: Daichi's sister is getting married.Which means navigating Tokyo public transit and a chance to see Sugawara again.Which should sound easy but he's bad with directions and hasn't talked to Suga in four years.With some unwanted "help" from friends Daichi falls headlong back into Suga's orbit.Will things fall apart or will they finally have the chance to get it right?
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 66
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics





	1. Chapter 1

**\\\Thursday**

“I’m sorry Daichi, I’m at the airport,” Asahi said when Daichi picked up the phone as if that explained anything. Daichi stopped what he was doing trying to make sense of Asahi’s statement.

“You’re what?”

“I’m at the airport, uh,” Asahi certainly sounded at the airport, his voice nearly lost in the bustle of sounds and voices behind him. He also sounded like he knew Daichi was going to be mad.

“Okay, so you’re at the airport,” Daichi kept the phone to his ear with his shoulder and continue to stuff his duffle bag, as it reached capacity he realized he had no idea what he had even packed. He should’ve made a list. Had he already stuffed his suit in there? Because he definitely shouldn’t have done that.

“I’m at the airport because Nishinoya is flying me out to Italy.”

“Flying you out to Italy? Today?”

“Yes today,” Asahi’s voice got small, Daichi could imagine him scrunching up his shoulders trying to take up less space. “It was a surprise, I’m sorry Daichi. You can still stay at my place if you want. I’m sure Sato won’t mind. He is kinda weird though. I’m sorry.” Daichi felt any eagerness he’d felt for this weekend draining out of his chest, hands finally stilling on the crammed duffle bag.

“How weird?” he dared.

“Eh hehe,” Asahi laughed uncomfortably, “You know, Suga’s in Tokyo too. I’m sure he’d let you stay with him.”

“I couldn’t,” Daichi was quick to cut Asahi off. Nope. Could not. That was not an option. Though a part of his traitorous heart had leapt at the suggestion. He hadn’t talked to Suga in years. He’d figured it was safer that way. Talking to Suga was to resume the one sided crushing unrequited heartache that had been the last year and a half of high school, the first year of college. They’d kept in touch for a while until it was clear to Daichi that distance was not helping him, just making the situation feel more painful and impossible.

“He’d let you stay with him,” Asahi insisted, tone sincere, “I’m sure he’d like to see you. Whenever we meet up…”

“Asahi,” Daichi rubbed his eyes wearily.

“Daichi.”

How many times had they had this conversation?

“Its fine, I can just stay with Kuroo,” Daichi told him.

“Azumane is going to Italy?” Niko asked not believing. Daichi leaned back against the wall of the train station. He was early. He’d texted Kuroo who was perhaps too happy to oblige his request. His sister on the phone sounded just as incredulous as he had two hours ago when Asahi had told him.

“Yep, just like that.”

“Where are you going to stay? I’m sure Ishida would let you stay with him.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Daichi told her, picturing her fiancée, Ishida Ryoma, too goddamn tall, like Tsukishima but without a bad attitude and without any athletic ability. “He’s got a million things to do that don’t include having to think about me also.” _So do you._ He wanted to say. He could picture Niko right now chewing on a pen making last minute changes to the seating chart. She’d be wearing her glasses, scrunching her nose up at him for refusing her offer. He had to smile a little bit. “I’m going to stay with Kuroo.”

“Remind me which of your volleyball friends that is, again,” Niko said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“The tall evil looking one.”

“With the laugh like a hyena?” Niko asked.

“That’s him,” Daichi agreed.

“If you change your mind let me know, I’m sure Ishida would be alright with it.”

Coming into Tokyo on the train reminded Daichi of the three or four times he’d gone to visit Asahi and inevitably Suga during freshman year of college. He’d visited Asahi since then, but something about rolling into Tokyo always reminded him of the first times. Today was clear despite the forecast that had suggested rain, the sky a soft baby blue, scattered shreds of clouds.

Before he knew it he was on some street someplace that was not where Kuroo’s apartment was. At least he didn’t think it was, his phone’s map kept telling him the address that Kuroo had given him didn’t exist. But he’d said it was in this part of town, Daichi thought? And now the bastard wasn’t answering the phone.

Daichi didn’t want to ask any of the people passing by, already feeling like anyone passing by could pin him as a country boy lost in the big city. He opened his phone intending to call Niko. She’d be able to help him, but struck with the thought she was probably already stressed out enough as it was, the last thing he wanted to burden her with was a lost brother. Below her name in his contact list was Suga. His thumb clicked it unconsciously hovering over the call button. _I can’t._ And then suddenly the screen was calling Suga, his thumb had brushed the button. Fate sealed, heart pounding, he thought of hanging up for a moment before pressing the phone to his ear and listening to it ring. He felt stupid and intensely certain Suga wouldn’t pick up. Places reversed he wouldn’t have picked up. They hadn’t talked for four years. Daichi had as much as ghosted him. He pictured the time he’d seen Suga in Shimada Mart, home over vacation, and had hid behind a display of canned beans, sick with his own stupidity.

Suga picked up on the fourth ring.

Koushi hadn’t heard his phone ringing at first, Fukugawa’s radio was blaring on the other side of the studio and he’d been absorbed in painting a clean edge. Setting down his brush his dug through the debris of his table to locate the phone. It was probably Arata, to pester him about going out to dinner again. Koushi liked the man well enough but he couldn’t take a hint. Instead the caller ID said Daichi, Koushi’s stomach dropping to the soles of his feet, fingers trembling as determined whether to answer or silence the call. To silence it would serve him right, it was vindictive and petty if it had been a year ago Koushi might have done it. He still wanted to. But what he wanted more was to hear Daichi’s voice.

He wasn’t sure what made him put on his best imitation of what he thought his dad would sound like answering the phone, he didn’t try calling his dad anymore. The way he’d always answered made Koushi feel like he was scheduling an appointment to get all his teeth removed. Something awful and potentially gruesome and not like how a dad ought to answer a call he knew was coming from his son.

“Sugawara Koushi here,” he’d said and immediately felt that was the wrong tone, because he could hear a sharp inhale of breath, the sound of traffic, “Hey Daichi?” he asked when there was no answer.

“Hi Suga, sorry,” Daichi didn’t sound like Daichi. Koushi thought he’d forgotten what Daichi sounded like but the warm, worried tone on the other end was different than the Daichi in his memory, rolling his eyes as Koushi’s nonsense. His old nickname resurrecting a thousand ghosts, Koushi steadied himself against the desk with a nervous laugh.

“I thought you butt dialed me for a minute there.”

“What was with the formal answer?” Daichi rejoined sounding more like Daichi, easy tone smoothing the edges of panic tingling in Koushi’s fingers. Startled at the question all he could think was desperately _Why are you calling me?_

“I was trying to scare you,” he said instead. “Did it work?” Daichi laughed a little on the other end, the laugh he got whenever the story about the principal’s toupee had come up, like it was funny but also his blood pressure was spiking. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Koushi said with a grin, picturing Daichi in high school, flushed and embarrassed, trying to save face and failing poorly. Warmth crept up his neck at the image. “So what’s up?” he asked when it seemed Daichi wasn’t going to continue unprompted.

“I’m lost,” Daichi said, the rest following out in a nervous rush. “I’m in Tokyo trying to find Kuroo’s apartment and he said it was in this neighborhood but I’m here and the map says the address doesn’t exist and the bastard’s not picking up his phone can you help me?”

“Sure, where are you at?” Koushi asked trying to reconcile the idea that Daichi was here, in Tokyo and had voluntarily reached out to _him._ After all this time. After everything. The knots were beginning in his stomach but it was _Daichi_ , he couldn’t say no, he’d never been able to say no to Daichi. Daichi was giving him the explanation of where he was at, a place Koushi knew well, he stopped at that coffee shop once a week at least. He hadn’t thought Kuroo had lived in the same neighborhood as him, but then again he wasn’t as good at keeping up with the Nekoma guys as Daichi was. He knew Yaku was in Russia, god only knows what had become of the rest of them. His messages from Yaku were few and far between.

“I know right where you’re at, hang tight I’ll be there in a bit,” he said.

“You don’t have to come,” Daichi protested, “Just tell me…” But Koushi had already hit end call, fingers trembling. He set the phone back down on his messy table, turning back to the painting he’d started and meant to make decent progress on today and now... now…!

Koushi slapped a hand to his face with a groan. What the hell did he think he was doing? Here he was bending over backward again. And he’d wanted to spend today working on this painting too. Sighing he dumped his brush into the cup of water. It could wait until tomorrow. He pulled back on his sweater, shoving his sketchbook and the couple of reference books he’d checked out from the library back into his backpack. And headed out the door.

“Leaving already? You just got here,” Fukugawa shouted at him over the radio. His hair was tied up in a silly little bun at the very top of his head. He looked like some sort of alien, or a teletubby at worst. Koushi couldn’t keep a smile off his face at the sight of it.

“Something came up,” he shouted back. Fukugawa adjusted his glasses.

“Alright, want to talk about paintings tomorrow then?”

 _Shit._ Koushi had forgotten they were going to hash out their show ideas. His brain was already ten blocks away on the back street where presumably Daichi was standing in the middle of a rush hour traffic street like a lost dog.

“Yeah, tomorrow. I’ve got critique after lunch and then I’m free.”

“Okay, that works,” Fukugawa flashed him a thumbs up, turning back to his enormous canvas propped up against the wall.

Koushi ducked out of their studio and resisted the urge to sprint for the door, his heart contracting, all the feelings messy and incoherent squeezing in his chest. He wouldn’t get his hopes up. Daichi just needed help finding Kuroo’s place. That was it. He should be more insulted that Daichi had called him for that. But he couldn’t be because Daichi had _called him_. He’d heard his sweet baritone voice on the phone, sounding nervous and a little sad and Koushi had wanted… well, he’d wanted a hundred things, but the first was to put a smile back on Daichi’s face, turn him back into calm and confident Daichi, who knew where he was going and what he wanted. Koushi swallowed hard. Calm and confident Daichi, who knew where he was going, didn’t need directions, wouldn’t need someone like Koushi at all. That was okay, he thought, if he was needed right now that was enough. It would have to be enough. Even as he felt the walls he’d started constructing to protect his heart crumble at the prospect.

It was chilly out, the sky bright blue, shreds of clouds strewn like errant brushstrokes. It was a weekday but somehow the streets were still swimming with people, something Koushi usually enjoyed, the hum of voices and the movement. He enjoyed them now too, except the thread of fright driving him down the sidewalk, looking for a face, familiar dark hair, brown eyes. He met them from across the way, Daichi’s mouth opening just slightly in surprise. It took Koushi a moment to really feel that it was Daichi, because he was different. He lifted a hand to wave, Daichi’s smile small, recognition in his eyes. God, Koushi was still weak for him, heart dragging him forward into a run.

Daichi had gotten a coffee while he waited, sipping at the steaming cup outside the door of the coffee shop and wondering what Suga’s concept of “a bit” was. It was hard to believe he was going to see Suga again. In person. Here in Tokyo. As if there weren’t the corpses of voicemails Daichi had never responded to between them, all the casual texts that he’d answered with one word answers like a moat. Daichi had to shut his eyes against it for a moment, missing Suga like a physical ache.

It was at that moment he appeared out of the crowd, dark blue cable knit sweater, long arms, ash blonde hair, hazel eyes bright. Almost as soon as Daichi caught sight of him, Suga saw him as well, lifting a hand to wave and then hollering much louder than possibly necessary.

“Daichi!”

Daichi could only smile, in a daze as Suga bounded toward him, bag slung over his shoulders, toothy grin.

“Suga!”

Suga stopped in front of him. Hair shorter than he’d worn it in high school, beaming at Daichi, still handsome, glowing, sunshine, then throwing his arms around Daichi’s shoulders pulling him close.

“Long time no see, my dude,” he said breathlessly, squeezing him tight until Daichi felt in danger of his ribs cracking. It was one thing to hear his voice over the phone and another to be pressed flush to him. Daichi gulped down the surge of ancient emotions rising in his throat, blinking back tears. He finally prodded Suga to let him go, and as he always had, Suga released him. Standing back and still beaming at him while the poorly mended seams of Daichi’s heart creaked at the sight. “So what are you doing in Tokyo?”

“Niko is getting married.”

“Aww, sweet Niko-chan,” cooed Suga, “There’s no way she’s old enough to get married. How’s it feel? Giving your children away is always bittersweet.”

“The guy she’s marrying is okay, I guess,” Daichi said without commitment. Suga casting him a funny look.

“What was it you were saying about Kuroo though?”

“I’m staying with him. Asahi bailed on me.”

“Right, Italy,” Suga agreed. “Wish Nishinoya would fly me to Italy for fun.” Daichi cracked a shy smile at him.

“I don’t think it’s just a friend sort of thing.”

“Fair enough. Asahi wouldn’t take kindly to Nishinoya flying me to Italy. But can you imagine the pasta? The wine,” Suga sighed with a dreamy expression. “Think of the pizza, Daichi.”

“Stop it,” Daichi elbowed him with a laugh, his stomach grumbling at the idea. He hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. The coffee wasn’t doing anything to help, just making his stomach gurgle worse.

“Let’s get some lunch before you pass out, huh?” Suga asked giving him a crooked smile. “Remember that one time…” Daichi’s heart squeezed tighter at Suga’s bright eyes, so close, the flush in his cheeks.

“I just need help getting to Kuroo’s apartment,” Daichi cut him off before he tumbled headlong back into the fresh hell of longing. “The bastard is awful at directions.” Suga’s face fell a little bit, sliding his hands into his pockets, shoulders scrunched up as if Daichi had called him out for participating in shenanigans with the underclassmen. Except this time the contrition in his frame was not just to placate him.

“Alright captain, ready to navigate,” he said after a moment, lifting a hand to salute Daichi, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Daichi dragged his eyes away from Suga’s face and pulled up Kuroo’s text on his phone to show Suga. Suga read it, laughing a little under his breath.

“You’re right, that’s not helpful at all. Did you put it into google maps? You’ve figured out how to use a smart phone since high school I hope.” Daichi snorted at that memory.

“Google maps says it doesn’t exist.”

“Maybe he spelled the street wrong, here,” Suga held out a hand and Daichi passed the phone over, with the familiar frustration that he had no clue what he was doing and Suga was about to solve this problem in forty seconds flat.

Five minutes later Suga was grumbling angrily, brows knit.

“Daichi, this address doesn’t exist. He gave you a fake address. I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“I’m sure it was just a mistake, I’ll text him again,” Daichi said taking the phone back.

“I live close to here, why don’t you just stay with me?” Suga said then, without hesitation or reservation, eyes lighting up at the idea. “It’ll be just like old times, remember when you used to stay over at my house and watch monster movies? And Asahi would stick his head under a pillow?”

Daichi laughed at that. How many times had they done that? The times when Asahi couldn’t make it, he and Suga would stay up late, talking long after the movie had ended, the tv flickering static, laying in the living room, Suga propped up on one elbow digging trenches in the carpet with his fingers. They’d been so close then, every time he’d go over, Daichi would think today was the day. There’d be some way to tell Suga, to be certain he felt the same. Risk nothing. That time just never came. But he never felt disappointed, not until he was leaving the following morning, until the door had closed behind him and the chill of Suga’s absence crept back into his bones.

But now was not then and Daichi knew he should say no. He should say no for all the reasons he had said no when Asahi had suggested it this morning. But this morning he hadn’t had Suga eagerly awaiting his answer, so close he could’ve reached out to take his hand. The sun was warm on his face.

“Come on, Daichi. It’ll be fun. Kuroo is lame, I’m an upgrade.”

“Ok, alright,” Daichi agreed, because really how could he say no to Suga?

He was different.

Koushi’s stomach was all butterflies. Daichi’s hair was longer than he remembered, styled different. Different. Different. Different. He was taller too, still didn’t have Koushi beat for much but taller anyway, shoulders broader. Asahi had told him he was a fireman back home, and god, if he didn’t look it. That was too much for Koushi to think about right now so he focused on his feet. He’d offered Daichi his place to stay for the weekend, here for the wedding that Asahi had not mentioned. There were lots of holes in Asahi’s Daichi information. Though, there was plenty Koushi no longer had the heart to ask for. It had been too depressing to hear about how he was doing, and he was sure there were things Asahi left out on purpose. Like the fact that Daichi would be in Tokyo. That would’ve hurt Koushi, it hurt him now all over again, even with Daichi right behind him. When he’d hugged him he’d smelled like cinnamon and sugar and the coffee he was still holding in his hands. It made Koushi’s head spin.

Halfway to his apartment it occurred to him that he did not have food for entertaining a guest. He didn’t have much food at all to be honest. He’d been living on takeout a lot recently. Arata cooked him dinner once a week too, in his apartment with the three roommates. He always touted it to Koushi like he cooked for all of them once a week and he might as well join but there were times Koushi felt like that was only an excuse. He had a hard time saying no to free food though. Arata wasn’t hard on the eyes either. He shook his head flushing a little at that thought.

“This is embarrassing but I don’t have any food,” he said to Daichi instead, “Mind if we make a pit stop at the grocery?”

Daichi shook his head.

“It’s fine. Let me pay for some of it though, I don’t expect you to feed me.”

“Feed is too gracious,” Koushi informed him thinking of his last disastrous experiment cooking. “It’ll be more like collecting calories from inedible content.” Daichi gave him a funny smile, one of those lopsided ones where he wanted to tell Koushi off for being self-deprecating but also it was funny.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he argued.

“Just wait,” Koushi promised, leading them through a backstreet, feet slowing a little, Daichi falling into step at his side. He’d been walking fast before, Daichi trailing behind. Shoulder to shoulder he felt emboldened, Daichi still smiling at him, his heart was beating too quickly.

He gave Daichi the basket when they entered the store, collecting his ingredients, he could make dinner tonight and they could eat out tomorrow and then the wedding and would he stay over Sunday as well?

“Is Niko moving to Tokyo then?” he asked dumping ingredients into the basket

“Yeah, she’s graduating the end of the semester,” Daichi said, “I don’t know why they thought they had to get married now.”

“You don’t think anyone would want to get married as soon as possible?” Koushi asked, picking up pork cutlets and contemplating the price for a second. He glanced at Daichi.

“It’s not that,” Daichi answered frowning, “I mean Ishida’s whole family is in Tokyo and he’s in Tokyo, he’s got a job here. Niko’s internship is in Sendai, she’s in school in Sendai, getting married and having to spend the first couple of months still doing long distance just sounds like it would suck to me.”

“But if you really loved someone making long distance work would be worth it.”

Daichi sighed, expression unreadable.

“It’s not that,” he said, “It’s just not ideal.” Koushi suddenly found he was very interested in getting the best deal, picking up another package to compare prices. If you were waiting for something to be perfect you might end up waiting forever. His stomach tied into knots. It was impossible not to think about freshman year with Daichi here right beside him, but he’d been doing his damnedest. It crept up on him now like a dark shadow, something with fangs and claws that he couldn’t see but knew they were there. And he decided he didn’t really care about getting the best deal, he just needed to be moving again, anything to put the shadow behind him, cram it back into Daichi’s overstuffed duffle bag where it had crept out of.

“Sorry, the elevator is always out of service,” Suga said pushing his way into the stairwell with his back, arms loaded with groceries. Ignoring the uncomfortable silences that continually seemed to be springing up like weeds, it almost felt normal. Daichi hoped Suga thought so too, that he wasn’t second guessing himself about offering Daichi a place to stay. That maybe the good feelings that lingered between them could outweigh the things they weren’t saying. “You get what you pay for I guess.”

“Why didn’t you room with Asahi?” Daichi found himself asking. “He’s got a nice place but he said his roommate is weird.”

“Sato’s not that bad,” Koushi argued, “But Asahi’s subletting from him, and it’s nice but not big enough for three. Also Asahi could not live with me,” Suga said sending a smile back over his shoulder to Daichi.

“Why’s that?”

“Daichi, you disappoint me. Guess,” Suga said.

“Um.” They rounded the corner on the second floor. “You both stay up late so it’s not that,” Daichi said. Suga hummed. “He’s used to you embarrassing him.

“You can’t just guess reasons why we’d be good living together.”

Daichi laughed and Suga’s smile got bigger, he’d waited on the landing as Daichi caught up, breathing a little hard at this point.

“You’d kill all of his plants,” Daichi said. Suga barked a laugh, starting up the next flight.

“Not on purpose!”

“So that’s it? Plants before bros?”

Suga was giggling.

“Fair point but that’s not what I was thinking.”

“So now I have to read your mind?”

“Come on, you were always so good at it in high school. Focus, Daichi.”

“He’d ‘borrow’ all of your pens without giving them back and then you’d have to murder him in his sleep.”

“Do not read me for filth.”

“But I’m right.”

“That doesn’t mean you should say it.”

“You have an exotic pet he is allergic to.”

“No, Daichi,” Suga was laughing eyes crinkling. Daichi had forgotten how good it felt to make Suga laugh. His heart was full.

“Neither of you would be able to kill the spiders.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Suga complained still grinning. There was one more flight of stairs to go.

“How come you’re not out of breath at all?”

“Because I do this every day, dumbass,” Suga said, “How are you so out of shape? I thought you were a college volleyball player.” The breath whooshed out of Daichi’s lungs and then he struggled to get it back in.

“Was,” he said voice coming out shaky. Suga paused looking back at him.

“Don’t say that like you’re a hundred years old,” he said frowning.

“I haven’t played volleyball in years,” Daichi said.

“You graduated one year ago,” Suga said.

“I blew out a knee sophomore year,” Daichi said, “It’s better now but I had to quit the team.”

“Shit,” Suga whispered, letting Daichi fall into step with him. “Asahi never… I didn’t know that.” Daichi grimaced.

“I suppose it had to be sometime that I stopped playing. The course load was too heavy to join again once I was healed up. It happens. You don’t play anymore either.”

“Wrong,” Suga said, his smile returning. “I’m on a rec league, we play games on the weekends, practice twice a week.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie to you about volleyball?” Suga asked, they’d reached their final destination and he pushed open the door onto his hallway.

“Are you still a setter?”

“No, I’m the ace,” Suga said and then elbowed Daichi hard, “Of course I’m a setter,” he said rolling his eyes. “And,” he said meeting Daichi’s eyes, pride written on his face, “I’m a regular.” Daichi could only smile at him, warm affection. What Suga deserved. Suga wiggled his eyebrows at him, breaking the mood.

“We’re awful but I get to play in every game,” Suga laughed. Daichi laughed with him.

They stopped at last and Suga fumbled for his key to unlock the door.

“It’s in my backpack, can you help me,” he said arms still loaded with groceries. “Front pocket.”

Daichi shifted the bags he was holding and then dug through the pocket, pens and crumpled up receipts and one very smashed candy bar. Finally key in hand he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and Suga led the way, flipping on the light with an elbow before kicking off his shoes. It had been one thing to visit Suga in his dorm and another to be here in his apartment, a space that was solely his. Daichi toed off his shoes soaking it in, the Suga-ness of it. The four pairs of shoes lying in a haphazard heap, the kitchen visible, stack of open mail on the counter, there was a painting on the wall that Daichi felt some degree of certainty that Suga had painted. He been in the art program in undergrad.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” Suga apologized stepping out of the genkan, his eyes still bright. “Incidentally why Asahi could not live with me.”

“He’d probably be the one to murder you in your sleep,” Daichi agreed, all of it suddenly clear, Asahi liked everything neat and orderly and Suga did too, just not in the same way. Daichi was sure he knew where everything was at in the apartment, but to the untrained eye there was clutter and mess.

“I alone could drive Asahi to kill.”

“He wouldn’t kill a spider but he could kill you.”

Suga was nodding sagely, trying to smother a grin, finally making it to the kitchen counter and lifting all his bags up to deposit on an open surface.

It was strange to have Daichi in his apartment. Honestly it was strange to have anyone, it was a small space, and even when his brother Kenji came up from Miyagi to visit it felt like not enough space for two. Daichi did not fit in Koushi’s space better than anyone else, he was alarmed to find. Especially in the kitchen they were carefully dancing around each other putting the food away. But maybe that had nothing to do with the size of the space.

“What’s for dinner?” Daichi asked opened the fridge and inspecting the contents depositing some of the cold items inside. Koushi could not remember what all was in there.

“I was thinking katsudon, you’re okay with that right?” Koushi sorted out what he needed from the supplies he’d purchased, eggs and pork, breadcrumbs.

“You sure you don’t want some of whatever this is?” Daichi pulled a box out of the fridge, a takeout box that Koushi did not recognize. Frowning he joined Daichi to open the lid. Daichi was smirking, he’d already opened it Koushi was sure, as soon as he did it himself, the smell and sight awful. He didn’t know what it had been in life only what it now was, in death, growing mold. He gagged and snatched it out of Daichi’s hands to dump into the garbage. He hit Daichi’s arm for good measure, Daichi laughing.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful instead of jacking around,” Koushi told him, “Want to start the rice and I’ll do this.” He gestured at the pork pulling up the recipe up on his phone. Daichi found the rice without have to ask where it was at, tucked in the cupboard with the plates, starting the rice cooker. Humming to himself.

“So you’re a fireman,” Koushi dared once he thought he had a handle on how to bread the two pork cutlets, starting a pan of oil to heat on the stove. Daichi was watching the oil while Koushi breaded the cutlets.

“Oh, yeah, yep,” Daichi agreed.

“Whatever happened to teaching history?” Koushi asked bringing the cutlets to the oil and carefully setting them in, sizzling as they hit the oil.

“I’ve been looking for a gig, but haven’t found one close to home yet,” Daichi said, “So putting out fires for now.”

“How many fires do you put out a day?” Koushi asked trying to keep a serious face. Daichi ignored his smirking.

“Mostly we respond to car crashes and medical stuff, petrol spills, fire every once in a while. Teach fire safety at schools, that’s my favorite part.”

Koushi turned his head to see Daichi’s face, a fond smile there waiting for him. His heart ached again.

“It would be. Because you’re lame,” he said without any bite, “What kind of firefighter would rather talk to kids than fight fires.” Daichi snorted at him.

“Wouldn’t you rather talk to kids than fight fires?”

“I’m not a fireman,” Suga argued, starting a second pan on the stove’s other burner with the dashi soup stock. He turned up the heat and went to the fridge to dig out the mirin and soy sauce. Daichi was hanging over the cutlets.

“Suga, how long are these supposed to cook?” Daichi asked nodding to the cutlets, they were starting to smoke and Koushi leapt back to the stove fumbling for a spatula. They were both a little dark but salvageable, he flipped them.

“Good catch,” Koushi told him returning to the fridge. Pulling out the two bottles he set them on the counter with instructions to Daichi to add them to the soup stock, cracking a couple of eggs into a bowl and beating them.

“Aren’t there supposed to be onions in here too?” Daichi asked mixing the ingredients and turning the heat up.

“Shit, I don’t know, were there onions in the recipe?” he asked, pulling the cutlets out of the oil, golden brown on one side and dark on the other, he dropped them onto some waiting paper towels and picked up his phone to search.

“There’s usually onions with the egg I think,” Daichi was telling him, Koushi frowning down into the screen until at last he saw them.

“I don’t think I have any onions,” Koushi said scratching his cheek and cursing his poor planning, “Could you check in that cupboard? I had onions at one point,” he asked while cutting up the pork, maybe the onions were in the fridge, did you refrigerate onions? “It’s the next step so there’s still time.”

“Have you ever made this before?” Daichi asked digging around the cupboard. There were no onions. Koushi paused his cutting to peer into the fridge just in case. From behind him he heard Daichi shut the cupboard door and then made a sound. “Fuck!”

“What?” Koushi asked turning around as Daichi leapt toward the stove. Flames had started on the empty pan of oil. “Shit!”

“Where are your pan lids?” Daichi asked turning off the burner looking around, Koushi pulled it out of the cupboard and Daichi took it from him sliding the lid on overtop of the flames, and pulling the pan off the stovetop. He gave Koushi a look.

“Good thing you’re a fireman,” Koushi laughed shakily.

“Am I lame now?”

“No you are not. I take it all back. Please forgive me,” Koushi giggled bowing his head.

They ate at Koushi’s kotatsu, talking about Kageyama’s playing for the Adlers, Hinata in Brazil, Tanaka and Kiyoko’s engagement, and things felt like old times, the comfortable ease of Daichi’s friendship.

“It didn’t turn out half bad at all,” Daichi said about the katsudon. Koushi was skeptical, without the onions it felt lacking something, though not much could’ve helped cover the burnt taste of the one side of the pork. Daichi wolfed it down anyway.

“Your mom makes better,” Koushi said.

“No arguments there.”

Koushi kicked Daichi under the table and he snickered into his beer.

“Did you ever start dating that one guy? I forget his name,” Daichi said it casually as they washed the dishes. Koushi almost dropped the plate he was drying.

“Who?”

He’d dated a couple of guys at school, Asahi knew about them, but he’d always assumed that Daichi didn’t ask Asahi about him. He swallowed hard trying to reorganize that understanding. Daichi looked embarrassed.

“When I used to come up here,” he said, face warping, brows furrowed. Freshman year. Koushi felt the wave of pain rise up in his chest. _Are we really going to talk about it then? Will he tell me why he started avoiding me? What I did?_

“What guy?” Koushi asked voice coming out hoarse, there had never been any guy he’d half considered dating freshman year. For reasons. Reasons that had stopped rinsing the dish looking like he didn’t want to answer the question.

“The guy down the hall, he was always so nice. Shared his care packages from home.”

Koushi struggled to remember any such guy and more importantly why Daichi had ever thought he’d date him.

“He was a foreigner I think? Marcus or…?”

“Matthias?” Koushi gaped at last remembering the person in question. Daichi flushed.

“Whatever happened with him?”

“Nothing? Daichi, why’d you…?” Koushi shook his head.

“I just figured,” he was red all the way to his ears, it would’ve been cute but Koushi was so completely baffled. “He was always so nice, the way he looked at you, and you had nothing but nice stuff to say about him.”

“Yeah, because he was a nice guy, I wasn’t ever _interested_ in him though,” Koushi said setting the plate down he’d been drying for much too long now.

“Okay, okay,” Daichi laughed him off, thrusting the fry pan into the soapy water and busying himself. Koushi watched him feeling confused by whatever moment had just happened between them. Was Daichi _jealous_? Why did Koushi still feel so strongly that Daichi ought not to think he was with anyone? It wasn’t like… He grimaced hard because it was like that. He’d thought he was over it. He’d spent a lot of time trying to be over it. But he’d spent a whole five hours with Daichi and erased the four years they’d been apart. _Shit. Fuck._

Koushi took the pan from Daichi’s hand and vigorously dried it off.

Later whatever boundaries they’d been keeping started to dissolve, Suga’s legs draped over Daichi’s lap. Daichi wasn’t watching the movie anymore, instead watching Suga rubbings his knuckles anxiously. He imagined how it would feel to reach out and take hold of Suga’s hands. They’d be cold and clammy. He remembered games where Suga’s hands were always cold with pre-game jitters. He’d always wanted to take Suga’s hands then to warm up between his own. Now instead, he rested his hands on top of Suga’s knees. Catching a sidelong glance from Suga, a spark of something.

Daichi’d had just enough beers that he felt like maybe this was the night, glancing back again at Suga, who was chewing the inside of his lip. The monster hadn’t even appeared yet. They’d seen this one before Daichi was sure, a millennia ago, wrapped in blankets in his parents’ house. They had to kick the twins out twice. Daichi’s mom sticking her head into the living room to remind them not to stay up too late. Suga, playing the dutiful son and considerate houseguest, promising her cheerily they would not, while giving Daichi the look that betrayed the lie. Had that been the morning they’d stayed up until the sun was casting pale light through the front windows? They’d slept two hours and got chewed out by the upperclassmen at practice. Suga washing his face in the locker room later, saying it was ‘so worth it’.

Suga pulled his legs off Daichi’s lap.

“Want another beer?” he asked getting up to retreat to the kitchen.

“Nah, I’m good,” Daichi told him, though good was not the way to describe it at all.

When Suga came back he was firmly on his own side of the couch.

The movie ended Suga dragged out a comforter from a tiny closet.

“The couch is pretty comfortable,” he told Daichi solemnly handing him a spare pillow. “I always take naps on it.”

“A Suga certified napping location,” Daichi said. Suga gave him a funny smile. They used to joke about that, Suga’s rating of all the places on campus a person could take a nap, certified was for quality of sleep and the low likelihood of being judged by fellow students. Suga broke eye contact running a hand through the hair on the back of his head. 

“Want a glass of water?”

Daichi flushed.

This was what it was like to be known.

“I hate that you remember that.”

“Did you say hate? Or that you’re eternally grateful?” Suga smirked at him heading back for the kitchenette. It was a studio apartment, the bedroom tucked behind a wall, the kitchen an extension of the living room. It was small but cozy. 

“How long have you lived here?” Daichi asked as Suga held out the glass of water to him, cool to the touch, careful not to touch his hand. Suga shrugged and then counted it out on his fingers.

“Little over two years, I moved in senior year,” he said, “Once I knew I was going to be sticking around for a while.” Daichi sipped from the water, to be doing something, racking his mind for something else to say. Something cool and comfortable, Suga leaning against the back of the couch, as if he was going to stay and then straightening.

“You’ve had a long day,” he said after a beat of uncomfortable silence between them. “Uh, I work in the morning, the class I teach is at nine, then I’ve got a couple of lectures to sit through. I’ll give you my spare key,” he said turning to go back into the kitchen and dig through the drawers.

“You teach?”

“Oh yeah,” Suga looked surprised, “I’m a TA, part of being a grad student. I teach a beginning drawing class, it’s full of a bunch of slackers not living up to their potential. It’d drive you nuts.”

“So you’re in grad school,” this was all news to Daichi. Suga nodded, eyebrows pinched, words he wanted to say that he was keeping in, biting his lip again. Daichi felt bad for every time Asahi had brought Suga up and he’d changed the subject. These were things he should’ve known, things Asahi would’ve told him, things Suga would’ve told him, had he not closed that door.

“Do you have class all day then?”

“I’ll be done after four,” Suga said offering him the key. It was on a little Vabo-chan keychain. The same one Suga had always kept his house key on when they were in high school, always at the bottom of his bag, requiring digging to unearth. Daichi took it.

“And I’ve got the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night.”

Suga nodded, if he was disappointed he did a good job of hiding it.

“I’ve got an hour between classes in the middle, we could grab lunch? There’s this good ramen place down the street from campus.”

“The one…” _The one we went to before._ Daichi didn’t finish his sentence. Suga shook his head.

“You haven’t been there,” he said. “I’ll send you the address. I promise it exists,” he said with half a smile.

“Okay, it’s a plan,” Daichi agreed.

“Goodnight then, Daichi,” Suga said.

“Goodnight.”

Laying on Suga’s couch in the dark, Daichi found the old anxiety of sleeping in a strange place pressing into his ribs. He’d felt tired right up until the light was off and he had laid down. He couldn’t hear Suga in the bedroom anymore, though dim light was still glowing from the other side of the wall cutting a soft golden block along the ceiling. The Daichi could hear his phone buzzing, he rolled over to pick it up off the floor. He hadn’t checked it since dinner. He had five messages from Kuroo, one from Niko and another one from Asahi. He opened Niko’s first, which was only ten exclamation points in response to his update to her on his lodging for the weekend. Heat rushed into Daichi’s face, wiggling further under the blanket. Should he have expected anything different from Niko? She knew all of it. If anything she should be lecturing him. Daichi closed out of it to pull up Kuroo’s messages. They had all come in the last three minutes.

_LMAO_

_Glad ur so predictable_

_U should b thanking me Sawamura_

_Sharing a bed with Suga-chan?_

_Ur welcome_

Daichi growled under his breath, tapping back exactly what he thought about Kuroo saying he could stay with him and then giving him a fake address. The light clicked off in Suga’s room and Daichi was alone with the glow of the too bright phone screen, scowling as the ellipses bounced with Kuroo’s response. Then his phone buzzed with a new message. From Suga. It was the address for the ramen place and a time to meet.

_Don’t stay up too late ;)_

Koushi lay in bed and tried to sleep, the knowledge Daichi was there in his apartment, on his couch even, was like a mosquito buzzing around his face. He rolled over but could not fall asleep. When he had turned out the light he could hear Daichi laughing to himself, had peeked out to see him on his phone texting someone, heart twisting around and around into a painful knot. Because for everything they had talked about, nothing had crossed into the personal. Was he dating someone? Daichi was handsome enough that there ought to be someone chasing him at all times. Whether or not he took notice of it was another thing.

Koushi had crawled under the comforter feeling small. Maybe Daichi was here, but it was not the same, because this Daichi had secrets. Things he could not know, years and experiences that he hadn’t spent late nights up with Koushi rehashing.

He hated that.

Rolling over again, he sighed, ran a hand through his hair, then rolled over again. His phone buzzed, his hand reaching for it, cool against his clammy hands. One new message from Daichi.

_Class in the morning. Go to sleep_

He opened it, smothering a snort of laughter.

_Mind your own business_

Daichi was typing.

_Quit sighing dramatically_

Koushi could hear him laughing in the living room now.

_Don’t mock my existential angst_

Then his phone was still and quiet. Koushi stared at the screen until the back light went off. He set it back down and pulled the comforter up over his head, heart squeezing again. He slid a hand out from under the blanket to grab his phone.

_Daichi are you still awake?_

_Maybe_

Koushi’s fingers hesitated now, in his head it was second semester of freshman year, lying in Asahi’s bed across town, while he had homework to do that he could not for the life of him focus on. His grades were plummeting. Asahi was giving him that sad worried face from his desk where he was working on a design mockup. Koushi wrapped up in his quilt like a burrito, big tears escaping his eyes. Asahi telling him for the tenth time that Daichi didn’t hate him.

 _Lies_ , Koushi had thought then, _all lies_ , just Asahi trying to protect his feelings.

He typed out the characters on his phone, the question that still rattled around in his chest. Even after seeing Daichi again, even after whatever strange specter of normalcy today had been.

_Do you hate me?_

Then he erased them all and pressed his face into his pillow with a groan.

“Suga?” Daichi’s voice broke through the silence, even at a soft whisper. Koushi sat up, he could make out the shape of Daichi in the doorway to the room, blanket around his shoulders, hair messy. “What is it?”

Koushi pulled the comforter up to his chin against the cold of the apartment, tucking his knees against his chest.

“It’s nothing,” he said. Daichi didn’t move, Koushi could feel his uncertainty. There was another time where Daichi could smell all of his lies, would not have hesitated to call him on it.

“You sure?”

Was he sure?

“Sure,” Koushi assured him, Daichi lingering for another long moment. Finally he turned to go back to the couch. “Goodnight,” Koushi called after him.

“G’night,” Daichi echoed.


	2. Chapter 2

**\\\Friday**

Daichi woke up late.

For a moment sure he was late for work and then baffled about where he was. The light coming in from unfamiliar windows in a place that was not his bedroom. He remembered though when he registered the framed Kageyama Adlers poster on the wall. His underclassman giving him a surly expression in the early morning light and Daichi smiled to himself, sitting up. Suga’s house slippers were deposited in a heap beside the couch where he’d left them the night before. The DVDs they’d debated over still strewn in front of the TV. Somewhere he thought he could hear a phone ringing, through the walls in someone else’s apartment.

He got up to use the bathroom, glancing as into the bedroom as he passed. The futon not folded up, blanket left in a heap, shades open, Suga absent as he should’ve known, though he’d halfway expected a messy head of ash blonde hair poking out from beneath the comforter. He remembered staying over at Suga’s house in high school, he’d always be the first one up, Suga curled up in a ball, face all soft curves, calm and peaceful, things it was rarely when Suga was awake. In the mirror in the bathroom Daichi looked worse than he expected, wondering for the first time since yesterday what Suga had thought to see him again. He looked older, hair longer than he’d ever had it in high school, weariness written into the lines of his face. He splashed water into that grim picture and tried to not draw the conclusions he was sure Suga had.

Suga had left him a note in the kitchen written in the same old chicken scratch hand.

_Help yourself to whatever. Don’t forget about meeting me for lunch._

Daichi had missed it the night before, their graduation picture in a frame on the bookshelf. Suga and Asahi and Kiyoko and him, looking young and happy. Suga used to have some other picture Daichi remembered uneasily then. One of the two of them, Suga’s mom had taken after the Shiratorizawa match, Daichi’s face bruised, both of them looked exhausted but ecstatic, medals around their necks, arms around each other’s shoulders. It was absent here.

The ramen shop was tiny, Suga was waiting for him by the time he’d found it, looking off the other way as Daichi approached with a worried expression that twisted Daichi’s heart. It was a familiar look though he tried to smother the memory as it surfaced.

“Oi, Suga,” he called instead, Suga turning, his expression confident, cheerful, all trace of worry hidden safely away.

“You found it,” Suga said it, the other words he didn’t say, there in his eyes. _I thought you were standing me up. Again._

“I’ll never figure Tokyo out,” Daichi said, “You know I got on the wrong train twice. By all rights I should’ve been here first.” Suga laughed slapping him on the shoulder, cheer for real now.

“Oh sweet summer child,” Suga said leaning into his shoulder, Daichi’s heart doing something strange.

Daichi got ramen how he always did, one thing that soothed Koushi’s heart, extra pork, extra eggs, extra noodles when he’d finished, sighing happily at the counter beside Koushi, knee bumping into his with careless joy. Koushi in contrast ate slow, Daichi long done with his second helping by the time he finished.

“I’ve got some time before my next class you wanna come look at my kids’ work?” Koushi asked as they paid, making their way out of the shop to make room for more patrons.

“Sure,” Daichi looked cheerful today, yesterday there’d been an undertone of worry in him that seemed to have evaporated. One hallway of the art building was dedicated to the beginning drawing students. Koushi presenting their lumpy still-lifes to Daichi’s critique, pointing out his star pupil, and the ones who spent the whole class period messing around instead of drawing.

“Where’s yours?” Daichi asked. Koushi laughed at him.

“This is the class I teach.”

“I know, do they have your drawings up somewhere?” Daichi said seriously. Koushi laughed again but neck feeling hot now that Daichi wanted to see his art.

“I could show you my studio, the grad students all do a body of work that we show at the end of the year. It’s still early so I’ve only just started.” He led the way though the building, down to the lower level where the studios were tucked beneath the stairs. Here the cement walls were supplemented with cork board for pinning up work. Fukugawa was already there, as always, radio up loud. He was nodding his head along in time to the music, little bun on top of his head bouncing. Koushi pulled Daichi over to his corner. He had his paintings pinned up to the wall, two more sketches and washes of underpainting. The one he’d been working on yesterday starting to take shape in the direction he wanted. Daichi stopped beside him looking up at the paintings, and then turning to Koushi bright eyed and beaming.

“Those are yours?”

“They’re rough right now,” Koushi told him trying not to grimace.

“They look really good, I like the colors,” Daichi said and then pointed to the least finished one, the one with the composition Koushi was so fond of that he was having a hard time committing colors to. “That one’s going to be really good when you’re done.”

“Why?”

“It feels good,” Daichi said and then blushed, “I mean, I don’t know anything about art, I just like how it looks.”

“I like it too,” Koushi admitted, “I’m almost scared to add paint to it. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Daichi nodded seriously.

“I know what you mean,” he said.

“Oi, Sugawara, is that you?” Fukugawa called.

“Yeah, I’m just showing my friend around,” Koushi called back, gesturing Daichi to follow him over to the half of the studio that was Fukugawa’s. As expected his painting had progressed to a whole other dimension from yesterday. It would go through a thousand iterations before Fukugawa would be satisfied. Sometimes Koushi was certain that Fukugawa didn’t go home, he just slept down here and left only to go eat meals. Fukugawa glanced over his shoulder, nodding curtly to Daichi.

“Hello,” he said before turning back to the detail work he was hunched up in front of.

“Those are huge,” Daichi said.

“Fukugawa likes to work big.”

“These are nothing,” Fukugawa interjected.

“You work bigger?” Daichi sounded skeptical, this canvas nearly reached the top of the cork board. Just below the small rectangular windows that let in the only natural light into this basement cellar. Fukugawa would need a small ladder just to reach the top.

“I have,” Fukugawa said, “I can’t fit anything bigger in here though. Once I graduate, look out.”

“Fukugawa’s got big dreams,” Koushi said teasing. Fukugawa looked back over his shoulder to fix a scowl on Koushi.

“Sorry that I don’t want to just be a teacher like you, Sugawara,” Fukugawa said, glancing to Daichi, “No offense to you if you’re a teacher.”

“None taken,” Daichi assured him.

“You in the art program too?”

“He’s a fireman,” Koushi filled in, “Sawamura Daichi. He’s my best friend.” Full stop. Best friend. Was that true? Had Koushi just told a lie? Daichi had certainly _been_ his best friend, but was he now? He glanced to Daichi, he met his glance, looking away just as quick.

“Fukugawa Kosuke,” Fukugawa said. “You know it’s relieving me to know your best friend puts out fires. I worry about you sometimes, Sugawara.”

“I don’t start that many fires,” Koushi laughed, uneasily glancing at Daichi again.

“I literally put one out last night,” Daichi answered deadpan. Fukugawa snorted.

“The department head banned Sugawara from being in the woodshop unsupervised.”

“That was unfair, I only broke the one saw.”

“And the fire?”

“Suga,” Daichi groaned.

“That could’ve happened to anyone,” Koushi insisted glaring at Fukugawa.

“But it didn’t,” Fukugawa said. “Has he always been this much trouble?”

“We were in volleyball together in high school, yes, definitely,” Daichi agreed and Koushi slapped his shoulder.

“I thought we were friends, Daichi,” he complained.

“It’s true,” Daichi argued laughing, “I couldn’t leave you alone with the underclassmen.”

“Nothing we did ever hurt anyone,” Koushi shot back, “at least not permanently,” he amended when Daichi raised an eyebrow.

Fukugawa laughed, tipping his head back, bun flopping. Daichi’s eyes were crinkled, shaking his head.

“You sure you can get back to the apartment alright?” Suga asked him back in the foyer of the art building, cold billowing from the doors as a group of undergrads trooped in, chatting, their eyes skating over Daichi and landing on Suga.

“Sugawara-senpai,” one of them called punching Suga’s arm as he passed, Suga turning after him, face lit up.

“Tomo, they haven’t expelled you yet?”

“Not yet,” the young man said with a wink and then they were gone, Suga turning back to Daichi with that strange smile still on his face. Daichi sure again that he didn’t fit here in Suga’s life.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, “I got here on my own didn’t I?”

“Getting here isn’t the same as getting back.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Daichi assured him with a forced smile, moving toward the door, Suga’s smile dropping, brows coming together with an unvoiced worry.

“I’ll see you later then,” he called after him.

“Later,” Daichi waved to him as he let himself out the door, stuffing his hands into his pockets outside the door.

Koushi watched Daichi go through the front windows of the art building, until he’d lost Daichi in the crowds of students and then he realized he was about to be late for his lecture.

\--

Daichi didn’t hate his family by any means but at the rehearsal dinner, lost in the noise of brothers and cousins and Ishidas, he wished he was anywhere but where he was. Preferably, he could be transported back to Suga’s apartment, curled up on the couch. Suga making fun of the shitty monster get up in the movie, it’d be one of those moments where they could pretend they were still the kids they’d been in high school, easy to be together, Suga carelessly leaning against him, laughing into his elbow.

“How about it Sawamura-san?” Ishida’s sister batted her eyes at him, slowly twirling the glass of champagne in her hands. She’d been chatting him up, caught in between their two sets of parents with no option to escape. She had dark blue eyes, short dark hair. She was pretty by any standards. “Coffee sometime?” She elaborated when Daichi was too slow to answer to whatever she’d just asked, that he hadn’t been paying attention to because he’d been imagining Suga’s sleepy head against his shoulder.

“I’m going back to Sendai on Monday,” he told her as politely as he could manage. “I’m not really interested in dating anyone right now.” _At least not you._

“That’s too bad,” she said with a real look of disappointment, eyes fluttering past him to his brothers. Takeshi was loudly laughing with Takeo about something. Daichi always felt the twins had won the draw for good looks in the family, both taller than Daichi, this feeling only validated when Ishida’s sister drifted past him towards them.

“Quit looking so gloomy,” Niko had arrived at his shoulder. “Did you give Yumi your number?”

“No, should I have?” Daichi asked. Niko rolled her eyes at him.

“How are you doing? Didn’t I tell you like ten times Ishida would let you stay with him?”

“I’m _fine,_ ” Daichi emphasized, Niko pursing her lips at him.

“Dai.”

“Really, I am,” he insisted. “It’s all good. We’re okay. Suga is my friend.”

“Yeah but…” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“It’s just for the weekend.”

“You’re hopeless,” she told him, snatching a glass of champagne off of one of the server’s platters as he passed to refill the drink table. She pushed the glass into Daichi’s hand.

“It’s not like that,” Daichi said, “I’m over it, Niko.”

“You are _not._ Not with that look on your face, don’t lie to me, Dai,” Niko scoffed.

“Anyway he’s here in Tokyo and I’m not, so it’s not like…” _It’s not like I’ll see him again._ Niko sighed heavily. Ishida appeared beside her.

“What are we sighing about?” he asked taking her hand and bringing her knuckles to his lips. Niko flushed looking up at Ishida with a gooey expression. Daichi looked away, they were so sweet it was unbearable to bear witness to sometimes. Partially why he hated weddings, looking at love up close made him feel fiercely alone.

“Make Daichi come stay with you tonight,” Niko said, “His staying with a friend from school and it’s _complicated_.” It was Daichi’s turn to blush, Ishida looking from Niko to him and back.

“Why not? You could definitely stay at my place, Daichi. I’ve got space…” he frowned a little, “I mean Itsuki is staying with me and the cousins from Osaka are taking up the guest room, but I’ve got a couch. It’d be a little crowded but…”

“It’s fine, really,” Daichi said, “Niko’s making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Rude, Daichi,” Niko complained reaching to pinch his side. Laughing Daichi ducked out of the way. Ishida was grinning.

Dinner was good but long and drawn out over the drinks that followed. Raising a toast, Ishida smiled shyly at Niko. Daichi’s chest hurt. This was the end of their coffee chats, the end of Niko calling him after work to complain about her boss. She’d be here in Tokyo, what felt like a million kilometers from Miyagi. He could still come visit her, he thought absently taking a drink of his beer. He could come see Suga too. Wait. No. He couldn’t do that. Nope. No way.

The noise level kept rising after their parents had left. Takeshi kept ordering shots for the cousins, and elbowing Daichi to join him and Takeo. Niko was sending withering looks their direction. Daichi had no control over the twins; at least during volleyball practice underclassman would listen when he yelled. But yelling at the twins only seemed to encourage them. By the time people began to disperse Daichi’s head was suitably fuzzy, warm around all the edges, trooping to the train station with his brothers. They took their train and he took his. Four stops in it occurred to him that none of these stops were places he’d heard of, blinking up at the map on the train car that illuminated the path the train was taking.

“Shit,” he mumbled beneath his breath getting off at the next stop and trying to make sense of the bird’s nest of subway lines on the map to get back to Suga’s neighborhood. If he took the Yamanote line and transferred here. He crossed platforms and took another train for another three stops, getting off and looking for the transfer to the Yamanote. Less sure than before that he had any idea how to navigate the maze of subway lines. Fumbling with his phone, fingers feeling suddenly too big for the buttons he dialed Suga’s number listening to the phone ring.

“Hello?” Suga answered after enough rings that Daichi had started to sweat with the frantic thought he might not pick up. He sounded groggy.

“Asleep?” Daichi asked thickly, a little drunker than he’d thought he was.

“A little?” Suga answered, “It’s after midnight, I was just uh, resting my eyes.”

“That’s sucha lie,” Daichi said.

“Are you drunk?”

“Do I sound drunk?”

“You really do,” Suga said, he was fully awake now. Daichi was supposed to ask him a question but he couldn’t think of it now, picturing Suga at home wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. God, he wished he was there now instead of here, wherever here was. “Daichi, are you still there?”

“Mhmm,” Daichi hummed an assent, he was walking aimlessly in the station, arriving in front of another map and remembering that he had a problem he needed to solve.

“Why’d you call?”

“I’m lost.”

Suga laughed, a bright startling sound.

“I’m starting to worry about you being in Tokyo at all. Where are you at?”

“I dunno,” Daichi answered contemplating the map. There was the Yamanote line, why wasn’t he there? Why was he here?

“Give me some descriptors,” Suga said, the sound of the call fumbling, shuffling, a door closing.

“I’m at a station and I need t’get to the Yamanote.”

“You do not need to get to the Yamanote,” Suga told him seriously, “Don’t get on a train, stay right there.”

“Okay.”

“Which station are you at?” Suga asked. Daichi peered around, luckily train stations were designed for this sort of thing, station name printed on the cinderblock walls. He told Suga.

“Fuck, Daichi,” Suga exhaled, “How did you end up out there? Actually, don’t answer that, just stay put and I’ll come find you.”

Later he was woken from a foggy doze sitting on a bench with the buzzing of his phone. He answered hazily.

“What platform are you on? You didn’t get on another train did you?” Suga sounded one step away from frantic.

“Suga?” Daichi still felt drowsy.

“Daichi, focus, what platform are you on?”

Daichi read off the sign again to Suga.

“I was just down there. Where are you at?”

“Ona bench,” Daichi said leaning back against the wall. The chimes were sounding another train arriving. He couldn’t hear Suga’s response over the sound of the approaching train, blowing into the station with a whoosh of air.

“Are you on this train?” Daichi asked.

“No dumbass,” the voice sounded in both ears coming from the phone and from Suga’s actual mouth as he jogged down the platform to where Daichi was sitting. Suga hung up, out of breath, cheeks flushed, tucked inside a hoodie, looking a little irritated but still smiling. “Found you.”

“Suga, I’m tired.”

“Daichi you smell like beer.”

“Thanks.”

Suga laughed offering a hand to pull him up. Daichi took it, knees feeling like jelly, he wobbled.

“Jeez, Daichi,” Suga tugged Daichi’s arm over his shoulder propping him up. “Never thought you’d be the sloppy drunk. Asahi maybe, me for sure, but not you.”

“Shut up,” Daichi growled at him, the words funny on his tongue. Suga was still smiling at him, pretty eyes crinkled. Hazel eyes should be illegal, he thought.

“What are you talking about?” Suga asked him cocking his head, smirking just a little and Daichi realized that thought had not been just in his head. He’d said it out loud.

Suga hauled him off the platform, strong and solid beside him, Daichi’s brain doing lazy loops around the sensation.

The train ride didn’t do much to sober him up, Suga on the seat beside him not quite close enough that they were touching, turning his phone over and over in his hands like he wanted something to distract him. Daichi wanted to still his nervous fingers, imagining setting his hand over top of Suga’s. Suga would laugh at him. He could blame it on his drunkenness, though in that moment he didn’t feel drunk at all, unless it was with the need to touch Suga’s hands, to link their fingers together. Suga’s hands stopped then, catching him staring.

“We’re the next stop,” he said prodding Daichi in the thigh with his phone. The chime played as the train slowed to a stop, the recording playing the name of the stop, Suga pulling Daichi up to his feet, slinging his arm back over his shoulder. Daichi let him even though he thought he’d be fine walking alone, soaking in the contact, he could smell Suga’s aftershave. Stumbling up the stairs was awkward and at last Daichi slipped his arm off Suga’s shoulder, Suga caught his elbow.

“You alright?”

“I’m alright.” They made it to the top, out into the sharp cold night air. Suga stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie against the chill wind.

“You’re different,” he said then. Daichi felt the blow to his stomach. He didn’t feel different. He didn’t feel as if anything had changed, not in him, not between them. He still felt eighteen and lost as hell.

The walk back to the apartment was short but Daichi couldn’t seem to walk in a straight line, dragging his feet. Koushi had been so relieved to find him sitting on the platform, heavy eyelids, face flushed, top three buttons undone on his dress shirt. He looked like a mess. It was cold as fuck out tonight and Daichi was not wearing a coat. Waiting for a walk signal, Koushi caught sight of him leaning precariously, reaching to grab Daichi’s arm and pull him back upright. Daichi was shivering hard, Koushi reaching for his icy fingers.

“You cold?” he asked though he knew the answer was yes.

“No,” Daichi told him firmly, through chattering teeth. Koushi exhaled a weak laugh, rolling his eyes. Letting go of Daichi he shrugged off his sweatshirt and tugging it on over Daichi’s head.

“’m fine,” Daichi slurred back at him, trying to take it back off. Koushi jabbed him in the side.

“Quit lying, just put it on, Daichi,” he said and watched Daichi try to do as he was told, struggling to get his arms to go the right way. Koushi reached to help him to get his arms into the sleeves, then tugging it down around his waist. Maybe they were almost the same height but the difference in their bodies was obvious in this sweatshirt which fit Koushi just right was too small on Daichi. Too short on his torso and arms. He sighed softly.

“Smells good,” Daichi said.

“Thanks,” Koushi said grinning at him, Daichi blinking at him like those words hadn’t been meant to come out. He grabbed Daichi’s arm and pulled him forward. “Come on.”

His own hands were frigid by the time they’d reached the apartment, fumbling with his keys to get them in out of the cold. Five flights of stairs were too much for drunk Daichi stumbling and protesting. When they’d reached the apartment Daichi sat down to take off his shoes and then lay down right there on the floor. He shut his eyes.

“I’m dead,” he told Koushi.

“Are you really?” Koushi asked him with half a smile. Daichi didn’t open his eyes. He locked the door and went to flip on the lights in the main room. He started a hot shower running, with the intention to warm up. He came back to Daichi who hadn’t moved.

“Alright, time to get back up.”

“Can’t,” Daichi told him without opening his eyes.

“Come lay down on the futon, it’ll be more comfortable.”

“’s hot.”

“I know, take my sweatshirt off.”

“Can’t.” 

“Daichi I’m not going to drag you.”

Slowly Daichi tried to sit up, he was looking pale. Koushi took his arm and helped him up, stumbling again as he helped him to his futon, letting him lay back down and then helping pull off the sweatshirt.

“Daichi you smell,” Koushi said. “Want to take a shower?”

Daichi shook his head, he’d closed his eyes again.

“Want to take your dress shirt off? Do you need to wear this tomorrow?”

“’s another.”

“Wanna sleep in it?”

“Hot.”

“Okay,” Koushi sat down beside Daichi and with trembling fingers undid the buttons of his dress shirt, helping him work his arms out of it, arms clammy with sweat. “You’re gross,” Koushi told him. Daichi smiled a little, cracking his eyes at Koushi, and god did Koushi wish the look he was giving him was less sexy, wondering if drunk Daichi would kiss him. Was he an affectionate drunk? Did he want drunk Daichi to kiss him? Koushi pushed back the sweaty hair from Daichi’s forehead, and Daichi sighed shutting his eyes again.

“Tired,” he mumbled. Koushi smoothed back his hair again, Daichi catching his wrist. Koushi sucked in a breath, Daichi pressing Koushi’s hand to his forehead, he was warm to the touch. “Nice n’ cool.” Koushi’s heart tugged, pressing the back of his cold hands to Daichi’s face. Daichi smiling a little.

“I’ll get you a glass of water, okay?” Koushi finally said pulling himself away, heart doing dangerous things inside of his chest.

“Suga?” Daichi was watching the ceiling, the strange shaped water stain, rotating slowly. Suga had deposited him on the futon. Had told him again he was disgusting and smelled like beer. Left him a glass of water to drink. He hadn’t been able to touch it, no strength left to sit up. It’d taken a colossal effort just to kick off his dress pants. All he wanted was to lie still and embrace the void. Suga appeared above him, toothbrush in his mouth.

“Hmm?” His wet hair swept back from his face. Daichi wanted to kiss him right then. Grateful he was too intoxicated to sit up.

“You’re beautiful.” _Shit. Shut up Daichi._ Suga gave him a funny smile, eyes crinkling.

“Daichi you’re still drunk.”

“Yeah, I am,” he agreed. Suga continued to hover above him, brushing his teeth. He probably tasted minty. Daichi had to shut his eyes, the rotating making him nauseous, looking at Suga’s face making him feel even more lightheaded.

“Just think this is all pre-game for tomorrow,” Suga told him. Daichi groaned at that. Suga prodded his hip with a toe. “You didn’t drink any of that water.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language, captain,” Daichi could hear the grin Suga was giving him, cracking his eyes to see it. But Suga had left the room back to the tiny bathroom to rinse out his mouth.

Daichi must’ve dozed off again because the next time he resurfaced to the waking world, the only light on was the soft glow of the lamp, and he could hear the soft scratching of pencil lead over paper, peeling his eyes open he turned his head to squint at the source, Suga propped up on his elbow beside him, drawing in a sketchpad, he stopped, eyes meeting Daichi’s. Daichi felt a little more sober, trying to see what Suga was drawing.

“You’re messing up my drawing,” Suga whispered to him, “Go back to sleep.” Daichi hummed, glad to oblige, laying back with a sigh and shutting his eyes. The scratching continued soft and soothing.

“What’re you drawing?” he asked voice coming out hoarse.

“You,” Suga said. Daichi pulled his eyes back open. Suga was giving him a soft smile, in an old light blue t-shirt. Daichi recognized it.

“Shrimp,” he said. Suga’s smile got a little bigger looking down at his chest.

“Shrimp,” he agreed. Daichi’s eyes trailed from the shrimp to the sketch. Suga laughed and closed the sketchbook.

“Wanna see it,” Daichi complained, rolling fully over, his stomach did an uneasy lurch.

“Drink some water and I’ll show it to you,” Suga said leaning over him to grab the glass of water. Grimacing Daichi gulped some of it down, hazily feeling more awake with each moment, aware belatedly they were sharing the futon, that Suga was tucked beneath the comforter with him, their knees brushing as Suga shifted to put the water glass back down out of the way and passing Daichi the sketchbook. Propping himself up on his elbow Daichi flipped it open, past diagrams of paintings, like the ones Suga had shown him in his studio, other quick figure drawings, people at their laptops, drinking coffee, sitting on the metro, staring down into their phones or off into space. He remembered Suga doing sketches like these during tournaments sometimes when they weren’t playing, trying to capture the movement of players mid jump serve, setters placing their tosses with care, liberos getting solid receives. These were better than those had been. Suga reached to turn it to the right page for him. And there he was, mouth open a little, sleeping, looking like the young man in those graduation photos, hand resting on his chest.

“I couldn’t capture the drool or snoring, so it’s not realistic,” Suga told him, spark of mischief in his eyes. Daichi rolled his eyes.

“It’s nice,” he said. Suga closed the sketchbook and tucked it away.

“I had a good subject,” Suga said without looking at him. “I’m shutting off the light, need anything?”

“No.”

Then it was blindingly dark, the comforter shuffling, Suga settling back down beside him with a heavy sigh. Daichi shut his eyes and willed himself back to sleep trying not to feel Suga’s proximity, the warmth of him so near, his soft breathing. Daichi felt like his whole body was filled with electricity, more awake than asleep. He opened his eyes again, adjusting to the dark, the dim light coming in past the curtains, the shape of Suga lying beside him.

“Suga?” he asked again into the dark. Suga breathed out and shifted.

“What is it?” he murmured. Daichi imagined saying it out into the dark, giving outlines to the amorphous feeling spilling out of his chest. What would Suga have to say about it? It couldn’t possibly be fair to say it here in his bed, in his apartment, where Suga couldn’t possibly tell him to leave or that he wasn’t wanted or that there was nothing he could ever do to make up for the awful thing he’d done in staying gone. “Daichi?” Suga’s voice sounded vulnerable, soft, almost breathless. Daichi’s heart clenched again.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, “Nevermind.”

“Okay,” Suga shifted again and Daichi rolled over to put his back to him, shutting his eyes and knowing exactly why he’d done what he’d done. Unsure given the opportunity that he wouldn’t do it again, to protect himself from this impossible feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

**\\\Saturday**

He woke to the smell of something burning, alone on the futon, head stuffed full of cotton, stomach churning. He sat up and drank some of the water but it was too late to stop the hangover. Before he could get any further, he heard a stream of profanity from the direction of the kitchen. He pushed to his feet, feeling wobbly and nauseous. Intending to go harass Suga about his cooking but instead ending up in the bathroom questioning all his life choices. Suga came to him hunched over the toilet.

“You should’ve drank that water,” he chided Daichi. Daichi flipped him off, mopping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm. Suga chuckled at him.

“I’ve got to start breakfast over, why don’t you take a shower?”

Daichi glared at him.

“You’ll feel better I promise,” Suga said.

He did.

It was marginal but enough, sticking his head out of the bathroom afterward. Breakfast smelled good.

“Suga, could you grab my duffle?”

“I’m a little busy,” Suga called back from the kitchen, “Just come out, it’s not like I’ve never seen your bare ass before.”

“My gift to you,” Daichi told him. Suga laughed. Daichi emerged in only a towel headed for the couch where he’d left the duffle. Suga was worrying over something at the stove, but of course turning to give him a look as he slunk past. Suga cracked a smile, giving him a wolf whistle for good measure, heat creeping up Daichi’s face.

Finally in clothes and toweling off his hair he came to the stove. Suga was carefully rolling the omelets. They were a little burned but they smelled so good that Daichi left his body for a moment, lightheaded and hungry. His stomach growled.

“Quit it, you’re giving me stage fright,” Suga mumbled at him. “Do you want this to end up like Thursday night dinner?”

“God, no,” Daichi laughed.

“Grab me two plates will you?”

Daichi held them out and Suga gingerly removed the omelets. They stayed in one piece. They looked like omelets. They settled at the kotatsu and Daichi tried his best not to instantly inhale it. It was difficult. The omelet was a little too salty, Suga frowning as he took a bite, but Daichi insisted to him that it was great, perfect, effervescent, and then it was gone, left sipping on his coffee and wishing there had been more. Suga was slowly picking through his.

“You didn’t even taste it,” he complained giving Daichi a mock pout, though his eyes were all happiness.

“How would you know?”

Suga kicked him under the table and Daichi stole a bite of Suga’s omelet from his plate, popping it into his mouth before the outrage bloomed on Suga’s face.

“You give that back!” He reached to grab Daichi’s cheeks, Daichi shoving him off, trying not choke with laughter as Suga hit at him. Shaking his head Suga slid his plate further from Daichi’s reach and took a long sip of his coffee, eyes still smiling at him. Under the table Suga poked Daichi’s leg with his toe. Daichi’s chest was warm, heart full, the omelet and Suga and the warmth of the kotatsu, for a minute he could forget all the angst, the unsettled feelings between them, the one sided crush, Niko getting married.

“What time is it?” Daichi asked then, suddenly remembering there was a time he was supposed to be somewhere, though the details were blurry. He distinctly had the memory of standing outside of the restaurant Niko telling him and the twins that they needed to _somewhere_ by _this exact time._

Suga slid his phone out from the pocket of his jeans, taking a bite of his omelet, he turned the screen to face Daichi. _10:41am_. Was that late or early?

“What time do you need to be to the shrine?” Suga asked.

“Niko told me last night but I don’t remember,” Daichi admitted getting up to go back to the futon. A quick search did not reveal his phone in the pockets of his dress pants. He had no memory of it from the night before. He’d made the phone call in the station and that was the last he’d seen of it. “Suga, have you seen my phone?” he stuck his head out to ask, a nagging worry that he’d left it in the station or it’d fallen out of his pocket on the train. Suga had a bite in his mouth and pointed only to the kitchen counter.

“I plugged it in for you last night,” he said swallowing the bite. Another wave of affection hit Daichi, trying to swallow it back down. Why did Suga have to be so kind? He’d done nothing to deserve being treated like that. In fact, the opposite.

He picked it up, a string of unopened messages. Kuroo and Asahi, one from his mom, one from Suga the night before he’d missed while he was dozing on the bench.

_Where r u????_

His heart did the thing again, like a dog rolling over, and wagging his tail. He hoped his mom’s message would have the answers to his questions but was only an admonition to be _punctual_.

A little afraid to ask Niko, he texted Takeo instead. Takeshi had been vastly more wasted the night before and would be no good for information. He returned to the table while he waited for an answer. Suga’s omelet was gone, holding the mug in both hands, giving him a _look._

“What?”

“I still can’t believe how drunk you were last night,” Suga shook his head.

“Like you’re probably such a well behaved drunk,” Daichi rolled his eyes, Suga giving him a dangerous smile.

“Oh, I’m not, I’m the worst behaved. But you’re Daichi, you should be well behaved.”

“Says who?”

“Says the laws of the universe,” Suga said getting up to rinse his mug out in the sink.

“That’s some bullshit,” Daichi told him going to his duffle on the couch to dig out his suit. He pulled the pants out, giving them a good shake.

“You didn’t pack your suit in there did you?” Suga was giving him a skeptical look from the sink washing out the omelet pan.

“Where else was I supposed to put it?”

“I don’t know, nothing in there is even folded, Daichi. It’s gonna be wrinkly as fuck.”

“We could iron it.”

“Do I look like I have an iron?” Suga asked. Daichi considered that for a moment, unsure how someone who owned an iron looked. Maybe like his mom. Suga was for sure not his mom.

He pulled out the coat. Suga leaning against the counter shaking his head.

“Daichi,” he said with disappointment, smiling bemusedly at him. Daichi tried to convince himself they didn’t look that bad, but he wasn’t a good liar, not even to himself. 

“So what now?”

Suga shrugged.

“Why’re you asking me?”

“You’re always the one with the game plan. What do we do now?”

“How is this a ‘we’ situation?”

“Suga, help me.”

Internet searches yielded methods that seemed half baked at best. Daichi hung up the suit in the bathroom and they started a hot shower, and waited.

Takeshi texted Daichi before Takeo did.

_Where are you_

The suit still felt moist and was not completely wrinkle free as Daichi pulled it on. He fumbled with the tie in the mirror, one of the things he’d always struggled with. Then Suga was at his side, turning him so he could do it. Nimble fingers tying the knot and gently adjusting it to the right length. Suga’s face was so close, eyes focused on what he was doing, long eyelashes, tip of tongue poking past his lips as he concentrated. Daichi felt it again, the low desperate need to kiss him.

“There,” Suga said and let go of him. “Look okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Daichi felt breathless like he’d run a kilometer, face warm and then Suga was looking at him again, surveying what sort of look went with Daichi’s shaky voice, the answer crinkling his brows, that same unfathomable worried look in his eyes. It tied Daichi’s stomach in uneasy knots, looping over and over.

“Better hurry up, Sawamura. You’ll be late.”

Then he was dragging on his heavy coat overtop of the suit, the day outside looking cold and windy, Suga repeating the directions to him again, the train to take, the one transfer.

“Suga, thanks,” Daichi said pulling on his shoes. Suga was still in pajamas, hair messy. He’d poured a fresh cup of coffee, looking like he was only waiting for Daichi to leave the apartment and then he was going to take a nap. He imagined for a moment living here together, sharing a life and midday naps.

“Have fun,” Suga told him.

“Hey, uh,” Daichi stopped with his hand on the door knob. “If you want you could come to the after party. You know, after all the family stuff. Niko would be happy to see you. The twins too.” He wasn’t sure what Suga would answer to that. In another lifetime there would’ve been no hesitation. But there was now, Suga studying his face.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll text you the details. I’m serious, Suga. It’d…” he forced himself to keep going, “It’d be more fun with you there. Something to look forward to.”

“Isn’t a wedding something to look forward to?”

Daichi shrugged.

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“They always make me feel lonely. Like there’s love for everyone else, but I’m just me. You know?” He hadn’t meant to say it, but had gone and done it anyways.

“That’s stupid,” Suga told him. “Come back here so I can hit you. Of course there’s love for you. What the hell are you talking about?” His eyes were bright and sharp and he looked like he wished he didn’t have the mug in his hands so he could strangle Daichi. All the breath had squeezed out of Daichi’s lungs. It hung in the silence between them. A question.

And then Daichi’s phone was ringing. It was his mom.

“Shit, I’ve got to go.”

“Daichi,” Suga’s lips twisted, clenching the mug.

“My mom’s going to kill me,” Daichi said opening the door though he was suddenly afraid that leaving would ruin things all over again, but maybe staying would do that also. The look Suga was giving him made his skin prickle with fear. He knew what it was about. The one thing they hadn’t made mention to in the last two days. Hanging over them now like a looming shadow. And as he’d been doing, Daichi kept running from it. “I’ll text you,” he promised stepping out of the door.

“Daichi-!” Suga called after him but he shut the door and sprinted for the stairwell.

_Like there’s love for everyone else, but I’m just me. You know?_

Koushi was trying hard to put Daichi’s words out of his head, dumping their dishes into the dishwasher, wiping down the counter, putting away the DVDs still spread out on the table by the couch. Realizing he was cleaning out of agitation. That Daichi somehow thought he wouldn’t find love twisted up Koushi’s stomach into knots. _I’m right goddamn here._ Swiftly followed by the thought that Daichi didn’t know, that he couldn’t see it, that Koushi had to be more forward if he ever wanted it to be something instead of whatever it was. Today was Saturday and Daichi would be going back to Sendai on Monday. He couldn’t. He had to. All his feelings tangling up inside of him like organs in the wrong places. He unlocked his phone to call Asahi. Except he’d never told Asahi about how he felt about Daichi. Asahi always helped him sort out his relationship problems but this one he could not. Even if he hadn’t been in Italy. What time was it in Italy right now?

Koushi set his phone back down raking his fingers through his hair. His pressed his face into his hands and sighed. His phone buzzed. He looked down to read the message, from Daichi, an address to the club where the after party would be, a time estimate, a funny little praying hands emoji at the end.

He opened up a reply and thumbs hovered over the characters. Imagining the words he would’ve said to Daichi if he hadn’t run out the door. What would he have said? Would it have made any difference? Or just reopen the rift between them. He groaned out loud.

Daichi cried just a little bit. He was man enough to admit it. His baby sister was all grown up and married and gone to Tokyo forever. And he was stuck in Miyagi, still, irrevocably, unrequitedly, in love with his best friend from high school. Niko’s eyes sparkled at him as she and Ishida made their way out past the crowd of family, she stuck her tongue out for good measure. Daichi summoned a smile back at her.

After the ceremony and the stiff formal dinner Daichi wanted nothing more than to flee. The only thing keeping him with the wedding party now on a rowdy march to the after party was the promise that Suga might join them there. His text with the location and time had gone unanswered. Maybe it was a long shot that Suga would join them. Daichi tried not to hope too hard for it. It was Saturday night after all, he probably had other plans.

“Congratulation Niko-chan, Ishida-san.”

The sound of Suga’s voice drew Daichi’s eyes to the front of the group now at the club. Suga was waiting at the door wearing a dark grey suit, looking handsome and Daichi’s heart was doing double time. Niko beamed at Suga. When they’d been in high school Daichi always used to joke with Suga that Niko had the biggest crush on him. _‘She has good taste,’_ he’d had to stop himself from saying. She threw her arms around him now, to a look of surprise from Suga. Leaning close to introduce him to her husband. Ishida’s face a smile now too. Daichi wishing there were less people between them. Then he could see Niko gesturing toward the back of the group, Suga’s hazel eyes scanning the faces until they met his, lips lifting in a smile.

“Let’s dance.”

A couple drinks in and Suga was fidgeting. Daichi had been about to suggest they leave. The twins were looking to outdo the night before, he was feeling lost in a sea of cousins here for the party, Ishidas and Sawamuras and everyone in between. He hadn’t seen Niko for an hour. He tried to protest but then Suga had a hold of his arm dragging him toward the dance floor. At least there the music was loud enough and Suga grinning at him it was easy to forget about all the losing, the things that wouldn’t go back to how they’d been, the unresolved tension between them. It was easy to lose himself in the movement, Suga shaking his hips, laughing. Then leaning in, grabbing hold of Daichi’s tie to pull him closer, eyes bright with mischief, Daichi dazed.

“Don’t get mad but Takeshi is definitely humiliating himself right now.” The starting panic in Daichi’s chest that had begun with Suga’s grip on his tie eased with Suga’s words, turning his head to where Suga was nodding. Takeshi had his tie off and tied around his forehead, enough buttons undone on his dress shirt that his under shirt was clearly visible. Takeo was trying to keep him off of a table and doing a poor job of it. Daichi groaned, turning to go set that situation right. Suga gripped his arm to try and hold him back.

“Just leave him.”

“In front of Ishida’s family, I can’t. He’s not just embarrassing himself,” Daichi said.

“Takeo has him.”

“Suga, does it look like Takeo has him?”

Takeshi was now on top of the table trying to pull Takeo up with him. Takeo digging in his heels, red not just from the alcohol. There were people jeering at them, Daichi wasn’t sure which family they belonged to, if they were family at all. He pulled against Suga’s grip. Then Niko appeared, pointing angrily at Takeshi who was laughing, releasing Takeo. Suga let go of Daichi.

“Get down!” Niko told him. Daichi couldn’t see where Ishida had gotten to.

“Takeshi get off the table,” he joined his sister, who sent him a grateful look.

“Daichi come up and join me, you can see everything up here.”

“Takeshi,” Niko’s voice was a warning tone. There were staff members trying to push through the crowd toward them now, embarrassment creeping up Daichi’s neck.

“Just,” Takeshi took a step, the table tilting dangerously, Daichi grabbing the edge to try to keep it from flipping over.

“Take-chan, come on,” Suga had joined them, reaching for Takeshi who was wobbling. “You’re gonna get us kicked out, are you ready to go home?”

Takeshi thought about that, long enough for Suga to grab the table and Daichi to get a knee up on top and a grasp on Takeshi’s belt pulling him down. Takeshi tripped over his feet and the table turned over. Takeshi tumbling down on top of Daichi. He reeled for a moment after he hit the floor, Takeshi on top of him like a hot heavy sweaty rag doll.

“Daichi?”

Hands were dragging a complaining Takeshi off of him. Suga peering down at him with a pinched worried expression. He could hear Niko apologizing to somebody.

“You’re bleeding,” Suga said. Daichi’s head was throbbing, the table had smacked him in the face on the way down.

“Where?” he mumbled.

“Eyebrow. How many fingers am I holding up?” Suga asked holding up three. Daichi struggled to sit up, Suga still holding his arm, pulling him upright. His ears were ringing. Niko was bowing low to a couple of staff members, apologizing. Ishida had arrived at her side, shoulder to shoulder.

“They’re gonna kick us out for sure,” Suga said quietly to him.

“Where’s Takeshi?” Daichi reached to touch his eyebrow, wincing at the pain.

“Takeo, dragged him out. Can you stand up?”

“I’m not drunk,” Daichi said back, Suga patting his shoulder.

“Are you ready to stand up? You hit your head pretty hard.”

In response Daichi pushed to his feet, Suga still hanging onto him as if he was about to go back down.

“Daichi, that doesn’t look good,” Niko said outside in the cold wind, pulling a tissue from her clutch. Daichi dabbed gingerly at his eyebrow with it.

“There’s another place we can go,” Ishida was saying. The party, the cousins, still buzzing around them.

“We’ll get the twins out of here,” Daichi volunteered.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Takeo complained, “Takeshi is the drunk one, punish him.”

“We’ll get Takeshi out of here,” Daichi amended.

“How do you know it was me and not Takeo,” Takeshi said, he still had the tie around his forehead, shirt untucked, Takeo was currently the only thing holding him upright. He’d survived the fall no worse for the wear, not even a regret now.

“Take-chan, you’re not fooling anyone,” Suga said slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Suga-san you’re supposed to be the nice one,” he said wobbling a little unsteadily. “Dai tell Suga to be nice to me.”

“No way,” Daichi told him, “Suga rough him up a little.”

“My pleasure,” Suga said digging his knuckles into Takeshi’s scalp as he ruffled his hair. Takeshi whined trying to elbow Suga off of him.

“We’ll get him out of here,” Daichi promised Niko.

Koushi took hold of Takeshi’s arm leading him to the metro station. Daichi wobbling along after them still holding the tissue to his eyebrow. They stopped under the bright light of a conbini.

“Is it still bleeding? Let me look,” Koushi pressed Daichi who dutifully removed the tissue and tipped his head down so Koushi could see, resting his free palm against Daichi’s cheekbone to hold him in the light.

“Who did that to you, Dai?” asked Takeshi leaning precariously. Daichi reached out to steady him as Koushi let go of his cheek.

“I think it’s stopped,” he said.

“Face injuries always bleed the most,” Daichi said. “Best reason not to take a volleyball to the face.”

“Try telling Hinata that,” Koushi said with a grin.

“Dai, don’t ignore me,” complained Takeshi. “Who hit you?”

“You did, dumbass,” Daichi told him, patting his head affectionately. Koushi snorted.

“When did I do that?”

“When you fell off the table,” Daichi said.

“That was Takeo, it wasn’t me,” Takeshi protested.

“You already tried that,” Koushi told him, “It didn’t work the first time. We’re going to take you back to the hotel and sober you up.”

“That’s not fun.”

“Should’ve thought of that when we asked you to get off of the table.”

Suga sat Daichi down at the kotatsu when they got back to his apartment. Takeshi had passed out no sooner than they had sat him down on his bed and pulled off his shoes for him. Suga had laughed. Some after party it had turned out to be. Daichi wished absently he’d never seen Takeshi on the table, if he and Suga could have just stayed dancing together in the dim light and the music loud enough to drown out his worries.

“Stay,” Suga said as if there was some chance that Daichi was going to stagger back to his feet and out the door. In another moment he’d returned with a damp rag, sitting down, knees touching. Daichi flinched as he reached up a hand to his face. Suga didn’t meet his eyes as he reached to dab the cloth at the cut over Daichi’s eyebrow. The pain had dulled but the cool touch of the rag stung now. Daichi shut his eyes as Suga cleaned it.

“Here I thought the twins were trouble when they were kids,” Suga mused. Daichi cracked an eye at him.

“You’re surprised?”

“No, not surprised,” Suga said smiling. “Especially not after I saw you drunk last night. I’m only surprised he was so tame. He didn’t even try to get on the wrong train on the way back to the hotel. Or tell me my eyes are illegal.” Heat spread across Daichi’s face.

“I’m sorry.”

Suga was quiet for a minute, setting down the rag to look at Daichi.

“Why do you keep apologizing to me?”

 _Do I keep apologizing?_ _I have so much I’m sorry for._ Daichi dared to look at Suga to see his eyebrows knit together. Suga met his eyes. It was still there, all of that history, all those practices, the tosses set up that he’d spiked down, teasing Asahi on the walk home, the early mornings in the bus, Suga nodding off, head on Daichi’s shoulder, the thousands of texts. And then Daichi was thinking again about their freshman year of college. He dropped eyes to the box of band-aids on the table, shrugging. Suga took his hand off Daichi’s cheek, Daichi’s eyes climbing back to Suga’s face. Suga was biting his lip, peeling the wrapper off a bandage.

“I’ll forgive it since you were drunk. I don’t get your angst though. When Kenji gets married I’m going to be a happy drunk. You’ll have to drag me off the table.”

“God,” Daichi groaned imagining a Sugawara wedding, Suga’s younger brother snarky and acidic, rolling his eyes and Suga having a better time than anyone else.

“What? You don’t believe me.”

“No, I do believe you. I don’t want to be there for that.”

Suga frowned at him and Daichi wanted to bite back his words. They’d come out wrong.

“What makes you think I’d even invite you?”

“I mean,” Daichi flushed again, “I mean trying to pull you off the table. Drunk you would probably fight me.”

“Fair,” Suga agreed. “And I’d win that fight.” He was smiling a little. “You’re all bark and no bite, Daichi. Full offense.”

“Wanna bet?” Daichi smiled back lifting a clenched fist.

“See, I’m not scared of you. That worked on everyone else but never on me. You wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

Daichi laughed. Gently Suga stuck the bandage over the cut and then sat back to admire his work.

“How’s it feel?”

“Feels okay.”

“You don’t want me to kiss it better?” Suga was giving him a sneaky smile and Daichi felt heat flaring in his cheeks.

“Whatever Dr. Sugawara thinks will help.” Suga hummed, smiling wider.

“I like the sound of that. Dr. Sugawara. Maybe I’ll get a PhD after my masters.” Then hands on Daichi’s cheeks he leaned forward again to kiss the spot. Just above the band-aid, lips soft, dry, Daichi bewildered but not in a bad way. Suga let him go.

“When Kenji gets married, we’ll get drunk together and be happy. No fight necessary.”

“Is that an invitation to Kenji’s wedding?”

“You’re top of the guest list, Daichi. Kenji’s going to have to run all his picks through me first.”

“He’ll love that.”

“Just wait until I tell him he’s getting married.”

Daichi laughed, Suga beaming at him. It felt easy then as if nothing had ever happened to their friendship. As if their ship had never run aground.

“Want a trial run? Get drunk together now. No trains to navigate tonight. Want something to drink?” Suga said standing up.

They’d long gone silent, Daichi tilted sideway on the couch, head resting on an arm, toes tucked under Koushi’s thighs for warmth. The movie played on but Koushi wasn’t paying attention anymore, thinking only absently of the sound of Daichi’s soft snores, the mess on the table, the comfort of being together. But this was all temporary. Tomorrow would be lost to the volleyball game he had in the afternoon, the lesson plans for school this week he had not started, work to grade, homework to finish. And then Daichi would be going back to Sendai, back out of his life, maybe back to radio silence. Koushi couldn’t stand that thought. The movie wasn’t over but he got up off the couch, determined to clear the beer cans that littered the table, picking up the silly drawing Daichi had tried of his face.

Daichi had been laughing, red faced, leaning on the table, sliding it over face down like it was some sort of black market deal. Koushi flipped it over as he had half a sip of beer in his mouth, then trying not to choke or have it come back out his nose.

“I tried,” Daichi insisted, resting a hand against his cheek while Koushi tried to stop giggling, looking self-conscious. It was a sincere attempt. Koushi felt bad for laughing but he couldn’t help it.

“What is that?” he asked pointing to what he assumed was his hair, an antenna on top. “What am I, an alien? A bug?”

“That part of your hair,” Daichi complained blushing harder reaching for Koushi’s head, Koushi leaned out of his grasp. “The cowlick, the part that doesn’t lay down right.”

“Ehh,” now it was Koushi’s turn to feel a flash of embarrassment, “Why would you draw that?”

“Because it’s you,” Daichi said reaching to pull back his drawing.

“No I’m going to keep it forever,” Koushi said hanging onto it.

“And make fun of it.”

“It’s not bad,” Koushi told him.

“It is. It’s so bad,” Daichi said frowning and reaching for his beer.

“Want to see mine?” Koushi asked, giggling again in anticipation.

“No I don’t,” Daichi said sulking, “Don’t show me yours.” Koushi did anyways handing it over, he’d started it in earnest and belatedly realized that looking too closely at Daichi’s face was going to be too much for the buzzing in his head. The shape was there of Daichi’s face, a grid for reference, the rest filled in with silly cartoonish features, long pointy nose, big sparkly anime eyes. Daichi spat out his beer, with a sputtering laugh. Koushi had watched him unable to stop grinning.

Koushi picked up Daichi’s drawing now, it was sketchy and uncertain, drawn in a shaky hand with care, the image of himself grinning up at him. He slid it under the cover of his sketchbook, looking back to Daichi on the couch who was blinking owlishly at him.

“Is it over?” he mumbled. The credits were running on the movie.

“Yeah, go back to sleep,” Koushi told him, reaching for the comforter they’d dumped on the floor to make space on the couch. He spread it over Daichi now. Daichi sighing, eyes closed again.

“S’cold,” he mumbled. Koushi hesitated beside the couch.


	4. Chapter 4

**\\\Sunday**

Daichi woke on the couch tucked under a comforter, pillow under his head. He only vaguely remembered the end of their night, drowsy as Suga picked up the empty beer cans. Now cast in morning light, the living room was tidy, or at least tidy by Suga standards. Suga himself nowhere to be seen. Daichi had the lingering impression of Suga curled beside him on the couch. Had he imagined that? A dream? No breakfast cooking this morning. Daichi’s head hurt as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, more from the collision with the table than the beer he thought, eyebrow still tender to the touch. In his original plan today he and Asahi would hang out. Asahi had strongly suggested that they have Suga join them, to which Daichi had been verbally opposed. Look at him now. He blinked groggily at the stack of sketchbooks on the table, two pencils with worn down erasers. Then he nearly leapt off the couch startled at the soft click of the door opening, he turned to see Suga in the genkan kicking off his shoes, shutting the door carefully. Till he caught sight of Daichi and Daichi caught the smell of coffee.

“Good, you’re up,” Suga said, “I brought coffee.”

Yawning Daichi rolled off the couch, whole body protesting. Suga set two coffees down on the kitchen counter, untucking a bag of pastries from under his arm. His face was flushed and belatedly Daichi realized he was wearing running shorts and a t-shirt despite the fact it was probably cold as fuck outside this morning.

“Running?” he asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Suga scoffed at him popping the lid of his coffee and breathing it in.

“Getting you to run outside of practice would’ve taken a miracle in high school,” Daichi said reaching for the coffee that was his. Popping off the lid he could tell Suga had gotten the coffee just how he’d always liked it.

“What do you want to do today?” Daichi asked sipping the coffee, tone light. “Asahi talked about going to Tokyo Tower. I haven’t ever been.” Koushi laughed at him.

“The Tokyo Tower is a tourist trap, Daichi,” he said, Daichi flushing. “Anyway, I’ve got a game this afternoon so I’m out,” Koushi said, he’d been thinking about it since he’d got up, unsure how to bring it up.

“Can I come watch?” Daichi asked.

“Do you really want to? I wasn’t kidding when I said we aren’t very good.”

“But you’re a starter.”

“True. I am the star of the team,” Koushi said smiling over his donut at Daichi. Daichi smiled back.

“You’re so modest.”

“I know, I know,” Koushi said, smile faltering. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather hang out with Kuroo instead? Maybe he could go see Tokyo Tower with you. I’ve been feeling bad for stealing you away from him.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t care,” Daichi said waving the question off, “If he’d wanted to hang out he should’ve thought of that before he gave me a fake address for laughs.”

“How did he explain it?” Koushi asked honestly curious. Daichi reddened a little at that.

“It was a joke,” Daichi said though he didn’t sound like that was the whole story. Koushi tapped his fingers on the table considering.

“Here’s an idea, I’ve got some homework to work on and lessons to plan for this week. Why don’t you go hang out with Kuroo for a bit and I’ll get that done. I’m sure he’ll be more interesting than me. Then we’ll go to the game later.”

Kuroo was where he said he’d be this time. Waiting at one of the benches outside the indoor market in a big puffy coat, hair as always, looking disgustingly sleek and effortlessly cool like he belonged there, chin propped on a fist. His body language said he was bored but he was smirking at Daichi as he approached.

“There he is. How was the wedding?” Kuroo asked straightening.

“It was alright.”

“Looks like you had a little too much fun,” Kuroo said tapping his eyebrow.

“Gotta love my brothers,” Daichi told him smiling ruefully.

“So Suga-chan kicked you out?”

“He had homework and papers to grade and I guess I’m distracting,” Daichi tried to sound indifferent. Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Whatever creepy thought you just had, I don’t want to hear it.”

“How are you distracting poor Suga-chan?”

“I’m going inside,” Daichi said walking away from the bench. Kuroo rose like a slinking shadow, following along behind him inside. They wandered idly, fish stalls and odds and ends shops, food and sundries and Daichi felt like maybe Tokyo wasn’t so different from home after all. Kuroo redirected them after a bit into a liquor shop, weaving through the shelves. This was where Kuroo belonged Daichi thought, in here with all these bottles like the Count Dracula of wine. In his big dark coat and stupid hair he looked like it. Daichi was about to tell him so, when Kuroo fixed him with a menacing smile as if he could smell Daichi’s attack and was countering.

“How’s it going with Suga, you tell him you love him yet?”

“Kuroo, really?” Daichi huffed and rolled his eyes, turning to look at a bottle and not meet Kuroo’s gaze. Kuroo always had an uncanny ability to sniff out weakness, and also had no mercy when it came to Daichi. They brought out the worst in each other. Daichi appreciated that about him.

“It’s a valid question. Though I admit my plan was much easier to put into action than I thought,” Kuroo said carelessly, tracing a finger over the labels as though he was looking for something in particular. Daichi could see a clerk sending them suspicious looks. “Ship Azumane back to the boonies,” Kuroo continued, “you’re too much of a cheap ass to rent a hotel, fake address, convenient Suga, bing bang boom.”

“Ship Asahi where?” Daichi turned on Kuroo now who shrugged, making a face that made Daichi’s heart lurch uncomfortably.

“Who’s to say where Azumane is at right now? Italy? Holed up in his apartment? Miyagi?”

“He’s not in Italy?”

“I’m sure he wishes he were.”

Daichi pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Hey! Put that away. I told him I wouldn’t tell you,” Kuroo said batting Daichi’s arm, then turning a smile to the woman watching them and waved, before strolling down the aisle, Daichi fumbling to follow, still clutching his phone trying to determine if Kuroo was pulling his leg. The only way to know was to ask Asahi.

“So what,” Daichi said when they’d gone to the next aisle over, the woman no longer watching them, “He told you I was going to be in town and you decided to pull this little prank to…? What? Get me together with Suga?”

“Getting you together would be a miracle I have not the power for,” Kuroo said, “There is no magic in the universe to overcome your stupidity, but Azumane thought if you two would just talk that would be a win. He’s a keep your expectations low kinda dude, I’d rather shoot for the stars. My goal would be you propose to him before you leave tomorrow morning. But you know, no magic in the universe et cetera...” Daichi’s face heated up imagining that.

“This is a joke.”

“It’s not. You’re talking to Suga aren’t you? You guys talked it out and made up? Friends forever and all that shit?”

Daichi didn’t answer that, picking up a bottle of sake.

“You haven’t talked about it?” Kuroo asked then, cocking an eyebrow. Daichi grimaced, and Kuroo put his hand on Daichi’s shoulder. “You’ve just got to own what you did,” Kuroo said with a superiority that grated on Daichi’s nerves, “And then you’ve got to beg for forgiveness. Ask Suga-chan to have mercy on your everlasting soul.” Daichi shook Kuroo’s hand off his shoulder, setting the sake back on the shelf.

“You know you sound stupid right?”

“And most importantly, Sawamura,” Kuroo continued ignoring Daichi’s comment, “Don’t you dare go back to Miyagi without tell him how you feel. I’m not going to listen to another five years of your pathetic pining.”

“Who said anything about pining?” Daichi growled.

“You didn’t have to say it, I’ve got eyes,” Kuroo shrugged languidly. He picked up a bottle of wine to inspect.

“How am I supposed to tell him?” Daichi couldn’t help but ask, earning him a cackle from Kuroo.

“See, there it is, you’ve got the look on your face right now.” Daichi glared at him. Kuroo pushed the bottle of wine into his hands.

“Get a little tipsy and tell him you can’t live without him. You probably didn’t even get him a gift as thanks for letting you stay with him.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“That is a thing. Unlike you, I was raised with _manners_ , and the least you can do is give Suga-chan a gift for putting up with you for a whole weekend. He probably had a whole social calendar he had to upend so he could babysit you.”

Daichi frowned at the bottle of wine and Kuroo thumped him on the back.

“You know I’m right.”

“I know you’re an asshole.”

“See here I was thinking it was sorta fun hanging out with you and feeling bad I gave you that fake address. And then it’s gone,” Kuroo said snapping his fingers, “Just like that.”

“Suga was right. He’s definitely an upgrade from staying with you.”

“Sawamura, you wound me,” Kuroo clutched a hand to his chest with a smirk.

Daichi texted Asahi on the way back to the apartment.

_I’m sorry, it just sounded like a good plan_

_I hate both of you_

_But you’re talking to Suga again right? That’s got to be better_

_Better than what_

_Better than pretending he doesn’t exist. I’m sure Suga is happy, even if you aren’t_

_I didn’t say that_

_See? Kuroo was right_

Daichi read the messages from Asahi again, outside Suga’s apartment building, wondering if he’d been gone long enough for Suga to get his work done, wrapped up bottle of plum wine tucked against his elbow.

_I’m sure Suga is happy, even if you aren’t._

That implied that Suga had been unhappy, that Suga had maybe even been sad. Daichi had certainly been both, and he felt them equally now as he buzzed Suga’s apartment to get back in, with the thought that he was leaving tomorrow morning and he had no clue how he could do either of the things that Kuroo told him he ought to.

Koushi was tying his shoes on, gym bag packed, in shorts and a hoodie, when Daichi finally opened the door, out of breath. Koushi smiled without looking up.

“You should’ve just waited downstairs, we’ve got to go or we’re going to be late,” he said to his shoes and then looking up to find Daichi offering him a wrapped up bottle of something. His heart kicked. “What’s that?”

“For you, uh, thanks for letting me stay this weekend,” Daichi said. Koushi accepted it, frowning.

“Are you going back early?” he tried to keep his voice level, disappointment welling up in his chest. Damn Daichi springing this on him right before a game.

“No, no,” Daichi said shaking his head vigorously, his face reddening, “Uh, Kuroo told me I was being rude not getting you something so I got you something.”

“O-oh,” Koushi swallowed hard, eyes still on Daichi, fingers tightening around the bottle, “You didn’t have to do that. I don’t need a gift. You’re always welcome to stay here, Daichi. You’re…” he fumbled for words.

“See, I told him it was weird. Fucking Kuroo,” Daichi growled running a hand through his hair, Koushi had to drag his eyes away back down to the bottle, unwrapping the brown paper around it.

“Plum wine, really?”

“You like that right?”

Koushi laughed, looking up at Daichi.

“I do. I do, you’re right.” He stood up.

“Do we need to go, didn’t you say we’re going to be late?” Daichi asked.

“Oh yeah, right!” Koushi set the bottle on the table and snatched his keys out of the basket there. “We’ve got to go!”

The smell of the gym made Daichi homesick. Suga bounding ahead of him to high five one of the other guys. All these strangers. All Suga’s friends. This team where he didn’t belong. He almost regretted needling Suga to come watch.

“This is my cheering section,” Suga introduced him to the other guys. “My _personal_ cheering section, he’s not here to watch the rest of you losers, just the real talent.”

“Save it, Koushi,” laughed the tallest man, dark hair, pretty lips, broad shoulders. Suga laughed at him elbowing him hard in the ribs. Daichi felt very small and a roiling pit of jealousy opening in his stomach. _Koushi?_ And then he had a horrible thought, something he hadn’t ever dared to think. That maybe Suga was not single. That realistically he knew very little about present day Suga. Was there someone he was texting saying ‘sorry I can’t, I’ve gotta babysit my ex-best friend from high school who can’t ride Tokyo public transit without getting hopelessly lost’? The tall man batted Suga off, chuckling. The captain joined the group and Daichi fell back to the bleachers to watch.

As promised they were not very good, but they weren’t exactly bad either, there were plenty of lost opportunities, but Suga was glowing, face lit up, setting up his tosses with more confidence and precision than high school, it was clear he’d put more time into volleyball than Daichi had since graduation. Maybe he’d been joking saying he was the real talent of the team, but he was the one holding them together, making them better. The tall man, Arata, their ace, was vicious and every toss set to him was an easy point. Daichi dug his fingers into his knees watching how easy Arata made it look. The look that Suga was sending him across the court.

The other team was more coordinated and cohesive and beat them in the third set after getting rattled in the second. Suga high fiving his teammates after the match, high ten for his ace, sweaty but beaming.

They came out of the locker room together, laughing. Suga’s hair damp, pushed back from his face. He was a stranger in that moment and Daichi had no business being here on the edges of this life he’d built away from him. All the things he’d started thinking last night about there being a future for them felt unfounded, imaginary at best and absurd at worst.

“Yo, earth to Daichi, we’re leaving!” Suga called to him, face flushed, grinning wide. Daichi climbed down the bleachers to join them, Suga and Arata. “Well was it bad or was it bad?”

“You aren’t that bad.”

“I know _I’m_ not,” Suga laughed, “But the rest of them?”

“You could’ve won it in the third set, I halfway thought you would.”

“Hear that, Arata, we had half a chance,” Suga said.

“Very charitable, Sawamura,” Arata said, but his eyes were on Suga, smiling warm. Daichi felt a little sick. They pushed out into the cold afternoon, the sun had vanished behind oppressive clouds. “You coming to get drinks?” Arata asked on the sidewalk. Suga shot Daichi a look, a tiny secretive grimace.

“Nah, I’ll pass today. I’ve got lesson plans to work on. Maybe next week though.”

“You always say that,” Arata accused him. Suga laughed shrugging as if there was nothing he could do about it. “Alright, well, I’ll hold you to it,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Sawamura,” he said nodding to Daichi, about to turn his direction and they theirs, he stopped and looked back to them. “I saw you guys play in Nationals back in the day. It must’ve been something to be part of a team like that.” Daichi glanced to Suga only to find he was already looking at him.

“It was,” Daichi agreed, Suga nodding solemnly.

“I’ll see you around,” Arata said, “Later Koushi.”

“Later,” Suga waved to him as he turned to leave.

“You regret coming just to watch us lose?”

“No it was a good match. You looked like you were having fun.”

Suga sighed happily, smiling up at the grey clouds as if they were a benevolent October sun instead, even as it started to sprinkle.

“It was fun. I always forget how much fun,” he sighed, “You know, I worked really hard to make the team sophomore year. I was always jealous you had your team back in Miyagi, and the first year not playing felt so bad,” Suga frowned at the memory and Daichi looked at him startled. Suga had never told him that when they’d been freshman. Just another secret other side to his friend.

Suga sucked in a breath.

“And then after winter break…” he trailed off.

The uncomfortable silence stretching out between them, a no man’s land filled with buried mines.

Daichi tried to think of the words to say, something to clear up all the misunderstandings, the hurt feelings, and explanation that would be satisfactory and not proof that he was a coward. Kuroo’s metaphorical beg Suga to have mercy on his everlasting soul. _Damn Kuroo._ Daichi clenched his fists in his pockets. Why was it that saying the important stuff was so hard?

“We’re not going to talk about it are we?” Suga sounded tired as they turned the corner, smile washed off of his face. It was still another block to the metro and the wind was blowing this direction, cold into their faces. Suga pulled his hood up against the spitting rain, Daichi not prepared, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

Koushi had never been so grateful to arrive at his mother’s house home for winter break freshman year, the walk from the train he’d been breathless with desperation to be somewhere he fit, with people who got him. He’d been texting Daichi the whole way home. He hadn’t gotten a response but Daichi still had finals today. He’d fumbled with his key in the front door, a strange panic that his mom had changed the locks, but it had already been unlocked. Inside, Kenji lying on the living room floor absorbed in some video game, idly kicking one leg back and forth. He was on his last year of middle school, uninterested in volleyball, sometimes Koushi felt like they were distant cousins and not brothers.

“Hey Ken,” he called. Kenji waved one hand, eyes not leaving the screen.

“Hey Kou,” he answered.

“Mom still at work?”

Kenji hummed an agreement to that.

He and Daichi had made plans to go to the shrine on New Year’s Day.

Koushi had woken up to a text from one of his classmates that there was a visiting artist on campus that afternoon, an opportunity for a critique. One of those things that could make or break a young artist’s career. Koushi hadn’t known yet what he wanted to do, be a painter or a professor or a volleyball coach. He missed volleyball like a missing limb.

He’d planned to be in Miyagi another couple of days but with the hypothetical threat of his entire future riding on some artist he’d never heard of, he found himself feeling sick at the train station buying his ticket back to Tokyo. Texting Daichi once again that he was sorry, something had come up, he had to leave. It felt like that was all he ever did anymore. _Sorry, Daichi I can’t today._ He’d fallen asleep on the train, waking at Tokyo station to find a missed call from Daichi without a voicemail and a text sent much later that simply read _Okay_. The tension in his shoulders eased, he knew Daichi would understand.

When he called the next day to complain about what a waste it had been to come back early, Daichi had not answered. Not that day or the next. Most of his texts went unanswered.

_You’re okay right?_

_I’m fine_

It made him miserable.

“I was scared,” Daichi finally choked out.

Words he could only ever admit to Suga. Putting on a brave face to try and fool him was a wasted effort. Suga knew him too well for that. Suga’s lip wobbled.

“That’s stupid. Why would you be scared of me?”

“Not scared of you, scared of being hurt.”

“Well that’s fine but it fucking hurt me, Daichi,” Suga answered. “I kept asking myself what I’d done wrong.”

“Suga,” Daichi croaked now wanting to grab Suga by the shoulders but afraid that was the wrong move. That Suga would shake him off. Suga swallowed hard, eyes swimming.

“Really fuckin hurt. You were…” but he couldn’t finish that thought shaking his head, two tears escaping. He clenched his jaw. Daichi wasn’t sure if he was angry or sad or somewhere in between, all he knew was it made him feel terrible to see Suga cry. This was no happy confession. There was no way this ended with Suga kissing him, everything forgiven. He’d broken the trust between them. Him. Daichi. And somehow he was going to have to live with that.

“We were supposed to go to the shine for the New Year,” Daichi said quieter as if that explained it. As if Suga should know what he’d had riding on that. The coffee place he thought they could go afterward. The words he could say to make his feelings clear. The breezy way Suga had texted him he’d had to go back to Tokyo early. He hadn’t even bothered to call. The way all the times they were together had to end, too soon, the careless way Suga seemed to think that Daichi didn’t mind.

“You abandoned me. Freshman year was so hard, Daichi, and you just…” Suga’s teeth were clenched, another tear escaping. “I needed you.”

“Why were you always leaving then? I felt like you could’ve cared less that I was there. You had all your new friends.”

“Daichi I didn’t have any friends, I was drowning.”

Daichi shook his head, that not computing.

“You never said anything. Suga I would’ve done anything for you,” Daichi choked, “I still would.”

“But you left,” Suga wiped his eyes.

“Suga, I’m in love with you. I couldn’t stand being second to Tokyo.”

“You’re what?” Suga’s startled eyes flew to his face. Daichi swallowed hard.

“I’m in love. With you. Was then, I mean,” he said, “Still am. I thought if I could put distance between us that it’d hurt less.”

“You bastard,” Suga moaned and punched him in the stomach without malice, it didn’t hurt half as bad as Suga saying he’d _abandoned_ him. “Fucking bastard. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was trying. I was going to. At the shrine.”

Tears were still leaking down Suga’s face. He covered his face with his hands, trying to keep in a sob.

“Suga?” Daichi felt like he was missing something reaching a hand for Suga’s shoulder. At his touch Suga stepped closer to him. Unsure that he was allowed, Daichi wrapped his arms around Suga. “I’m sorry, I was afraid.”

“Afraid of me?” Suga mumbled again into his shoulder, sliding his arms around Daichi. Something was different, Daichi held him a little tighter.

“A little bit. You’re a heartbreaker.”

Suga gave a watery laugh at that.

“I love you too, you know.”

Daichi’s stomach lurched.

“I don’t mean I love you in a bro way, Suga.”

“That’s okay, because I don’t love you in a bro way either,” Suga said pulling back so he could meet Daichi’s eyes.

“Oh.”

“I love you in a ‘would you kiss me’ way.”

“Okay, okay,” Daichi said flushing.

“Okay?” Suga breathed out and leaned into him again, meeting his lips, warm and easy and with the comfort of any other physical contact they’d ever shared. Daichi almost dizzy with the electric undercurrent, Suga’s palms pressed on his back holding him close. A gentle kiss until his brain could catch up that this was actually happening that Suga had just said… that now he was… Growling low, Daichi gripped Suga tighter, a laugh fluttered out of Suga, pulling back to readjust his angle, hands on Daichi’s face pulling him back in hungrily, small noise in the back of his throat. And Daichi wanted him like this forever, close and warm and solid against him.

That they were in public someplace came back to Daichi eventually, that they were in a train station where the train had come and gone many times, that what they were doing was probably definitely not socially acceptable was a hazy afterthought, followed by the certainty that he should be ashamed but he was not. He’d kiss Suga here forever, he didn’t care who saw them.

Suga pulled away first, breathless, leaning his forehead against Daichi’s, eyes closed, long dark lashes, cheeks flushed. God, he was beautiful. Daichi shut his own eyes to savor it for a moment, then Suga was slipping from his grip, hand finding his. Palm in palm.

“I shouldn’t have cut you out,” Daichi said, “I’m so sorry, Suga.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel second best,” Suga said meeting his eyes, leaning into his shoulder, squeezing his hand. The train arrived, Suga sucked in a breath, eyes bright. Dragging him forward into the half empty car.

“What’ll your siblings think?”

“That it’s about time,” Daichi said with half a smile. Suga laughed shakily.

They found two open seats, Koushi’s hand still locked on Daichi’s, somehow he was afraid if he let him go, he’d slip away again. That Daichi had loved him all along had broken Koushi’s heart all over again. Squeezing Daichi’s hand hard, to undo all their mistakes, all the missteps, the misunderstandings.

“You never told me freshman year was hard,” Daichi said quietly. Koushi leaned into his shoulder, bowing his head with the weight of it.

“I almost dropped out,” he said, “It was different for you. The university in Sendai had people you knew and I had nobody, Asahi across town at his internship. After winter break my grades just tanked, I couldn’t stay on top of any of it,” his voice faltered, _I thought you hated me and that made everything so much worse._

“Koushi,” Daichi’s voice sent electricity through Koushi’s body, Daichi’s brown eyes on him, so sorry. He reached a finger to smooth the crease in Daichi’s eyebrows. One corner of Daichi’s mouth lifted, a silly smile, Koushi wanted to kiss him again. “But you didn’t drop out,” he said.

“No, but I did join the volleyball team,” Koushi said, “That’s how I found my way back. I made buddies there and then things got better.”

The intercom was calling their stop, the train slowing, Koushi dragging Daichi to his feet.

“I think you’ve broken all the bones in my hand,” Daichi told him.

“That’s okay, you’ve got a second hand,” Koushi said with a grin and Daichi squeezed his hand back hard, until they both let go, Koushi shaking out his hand with a laugh. Daichi elbowed him, and they got off of the train.

The walk from the station to Suga’s apartment felt like a dream to Daichi, Suga’s hand in his. It was raining but it didn’t feel cold. He kept catching sideways glances from Suga, shy smile, eyes sparkling. They kissed again in the shadow of the apartment building out of the rain, Suga’s lips cold but his mouth warm. At the door while Suga dug through his gym bag for his key, Daichi was afraid that at any moment all of this would dissolve, like spun sugar in the rain. He had to go back to Sendai in the morning, Suga still had two years of grad school left. It was a paralyzing thought. Suga unlocked the door, but didn’t enter.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re too quiet. Something is wrong,” Suga frowned at him. “Come on Daichi, no more secrets.”

“What happens now?” Daichi asked.

“I was thinking we could order in, unless you’d like to eat packaged ramen noodles or we risk me cooking again,” Suga said opening the door and flipping on the lights.

“I mean, tomorrow, what happens tomorrow?”

Suga paled a little and Daichi followed him in, kicking off their wet shoes in the genkan. Suga shut the door and caught hold of Daichi’s shirt, dragging him in for a kiss.

“Suga, I’m serious,” Daichi breathed, pulling away.

“So am I,” Suga mumbled, smoothing his hands along Daichi’s shoulders. “What do you want to eat for dinner?”

Koushi ordered dinner from his favorite Chinese place. The energy between them had shifted, and as soon as Daichi was in reach all he wanted was to be kissing him, to be pressed against him, arms around him. Daichi was so warm and October had never been so cold. When the food arrived, they were tucked beneath the kotatsu, legs tangled, Daichi stroking his fingers through Koushi’s hair. Koushi felt half asleep when the knock came, blinking blearily at Daichi, who carefully extracted himself from beneath the blanket, Koushi hanging on.

“Noo, don’t leave me.”

Daichi laughed pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Sorry, I’m starving.”

Koushi watched him open the door, greeting the person who’d brought their food, polite as always, in his socks, long sleeve shirt riding up funny in the back, hair a little wild by Koushi’s doing. He didn’t think his heart had ever felt so full, resting his cheek against his arm.

“You know what Kuroo told me this afternoon?”

“Besides to buy me a bottle of plum wine?” Suga asked sitting at the couch trying to pick a movie, he’d opened his streaming service but nothing looked good. They’d seen all these ones before.

“That Asahi isn’t actually in Italy,” Daichi told him.

“He’s… No, he’s gotta be, Kuroo’s messing with you,” Suga said frowning, unlocking his phone and swiping open to his chat with Asahi.

“No, he’s not, Kuroo didn’t know where he was at but it wasn’t Italy.”

“Okay, but what is this then?” Suga showed Daichi a photo of Asahi outside in sunglasses in front of a fountain.

“He’s back home,” Daichi said, “You don’t recognize that? That’s in that park in Sendai.” Suga scowled, he showed Daichi another picture taken at a supposed candlelight dinner, two glasses of wine. Another of a plate of spaghetti.

“I hate him,” Suga growled, “You’re the sloppy drunk and Asahi is the master of deceit.”

“There’s nothing about those pictures that remotely feel Italian. You’re just gullible.”

“You know what, I take all of it back, I hate you too!” Suga growled launching himself on top of Daichi and messing up his hair, laughing.

“No take backs,” Daichi laughed, Suga flattening him on the couch. “Mercy, mercy,” he pleaded breathlessly, Suga’s aggressive mussing of his hair came to a halt, grinning down at Daichi.

“How are we going to punish him?” Suga asked.

“Does it require punishing? Maybe we should be thanking him instead.”

“Nope, you should be mad, what if you hadn’t called me or I’d said no, you would’ve had nowhere to stay in Tokyo.”

“I guess? Would you have said no?”

“No,” Suga said and then laughed, “I mean, I did think about not answering, but I don’t think I could’ve gone through with it.”

“You should pretend you don’t know,” Daichi said, “Ask him to send you a picture of him and Noya, or the beach or something that would be impossible for him to do in Sendai.”

“Ooh, guilt trip him,” Suga finally sat back off of Daichi pulling open the message again, “I like that, very devious.”

“He knows I know though.”

“I’ll tell him I’ve decided to hate you forever and I’m very sad and it’s too bad he’s in Italy,” Suga said tapping on his screen, “Send me a picture of you and Noya. I am so sad tonight,” he read off. Daichi sat up leaning over his shoulder.

“Are you actually going to send it?”

“Why not? He lied to me, I can lie to him. It’s payback,” he hit send and they waited. Then Asahi was typing.

_What happened? Noya’s stepped out for a bit, had to go get food._

“That liar,” Suga growled.

_Daichi told me he’s in love with me and now I hate him forever._

“You can’t send that,” Daichi said trying to grab Suga’s phone, Suga snickering. “Won’t he know that’s a lie? Wait, Suga how long…” he searched for the words.

“Since high school,” Suga looked up from his phone, hazel eyes gone serious.

“Then has Asahi known the whole time?”

“I didn’t ever tell Asahi. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t think,” Suga scratched the back of his ear, reddening, “I didn’t think I had a shot at all. I thought you’d end up with somebody more, I don’t know, more not me.”

“Suga,” Daichi’s heart pinched. Suga shrugged, eyes dropping away.

“I always figured it was a one sided thing, that you were just extra nice to be because we were friends,” he unlocked his phone again and erased the words. Asahi had sent another text, a single question mark. Daichi’s phone buzzed. He turned the screen to Suga. _Is Suga alright?_

“I feel mean now,” Suga complained. “What do I say, just kidding, found out you’re in Sendai and have been lying to me all weekend and got a little mad. Daichi told me to torture you.”

“You’re the one who wanted to punish him.”

“Oh shit, he’s calling,” Suga’s eyes went wide staring down at his phone, he glanced to Daichi.

“Answer it.”

Suga swiped to answer, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

Daichi couldn’t hear Asahi’s side of the conversation.

“Oh, you know,” Suga started, “Just feeling down, we lost our game this afternoon… big surprise I know? Yeah? Daichi’s still here. Daichi are you still here?”

“I’m still here,” Daichi smiled.

“Asahi can I put you on speaker? No, tell me _more_ about _Italy_.”

“Suga,” Asahi’s voice was suddenly there in the apartment with them, sounding like he was cringing.

“Yeah, tell us more about _Italy,_ ” Daichi added.

“Daichi,” It was a plea.

“How was your flight?”

“I’m sorry Suga, Daichi, it was all fake, I’m sorry,” Asahi’s voice was a panic, “You were both so… I just thought maybe you could work it out if you had some time together. You’re okay now. Right? Suga, right? You’re happy?”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Suga breathed out, turning to Daichi.

“Good, that’s all I wanted. So we can be the three amigos again instead of… the two amigos?” Asahi still sounded flustered.

“Do we tell him?” Daichi asked.

“Hm, I don’t know, he lied to us so I’m not sure,” Suga answered.

“Tell me what?” the panic was back in Asahi’s voice. “Guys? Tell me what?”

“Should I hang up?” Suga whispered. Daichi covered his mouth to keep in the laugh.

“Come on guys, it’s not funny. I’m sorry, okay? What’s going on?”

“We’re dating. We’re dating?” Suga looked to Daichi look questioning, Daichi couldn’t help his smile, leaning forward to kiss Suga again.

“You’re what?”

“Kissing, right now,” Daichi answered.

“Guys??”

“Right now,” Suga confirmed, meeting Daichi again. Asahi made a strangled sound.

“Wait, wait, for real? This isn’t a joke?”

“No joke.”

Asahi let out a heavy sigh.

“That makes me so happy,” his voice was wobbly, Daichi would’ve bet money he had tears in his eyes. “Let’s go out. Let’s celebrate.”

“Maybe when you get back from Italy,” Suga agreed, leaning his head on Daichi’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Asahi agreed dreamily, “Next time we’re all in Tokyo. I told you Daichi, I told you it’d be okay.”

“You told him?” Suga asked Daichi lifting his head to meet his eyes. “You knew Daichi liked me?” he asked Asahi.

“I did,” Daichi confirmed.

“Asahi!”

“He wouldn’t have had to though, it’s so obvious,” Asahi groaned, “I knew you liked him too. I tried telling both of you but you never listened to me. You two are stupid as fuck when it comes to each other,” Asahi protested, “Sorry,” he added as an afterward. Suga laughed lacing his fingers together with Daichi’s.

After Asahi had hung up they’d resumed their lighthearted argument about movies. An inability to come to an agreement dissolving into more making out, Daichi’s heart fluttering.

“Koushi,” he murmured as Suga pushed him back against the couch, hands on his chest, feeling too hot all over. A tight feeling in his stomach. Suga kissed him soft, settling there, straddling his hips, gently carding his fingers through Daichi’s hair. Daichi moaned into his mouth, Suga’s thumb tracing the line of his jaw against his fluttering pulse point. His own hands resting on Suga’s waist, sliding beneath the hem of his t-shirt against the soft warm skin of his lower back. Suga’s breath hitched and he pulled back for a second. Daichi felt like a drowning man left in the water, lungs aching for air. Worry was threading back into Suga’s expression. Daichi tried to steady his breathing, the pounding of his heart.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Suga said, coming back down, but there was hesitation now in his touch.

“We don’t have to,” Daichi reminded him softly covering Suga’s hand on his collarbone with his own. Suga sighed.

“I haven’t…” he started and flushed a little, Daichi twined their fingers together. “I haven’t ever done it with someone before, I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Really?”

“Daichi,” Suga groaned. “You know I’ve got nerves.”

“Not that,” Daichi said lifting Suga’s wrist to his lips. Suga let himself down to lay against Daichi’s chest, his head against Daichi’s shoulder.

“Why’s that surprising?”

“I dunno,” Daichi said. “There were always all those girls who flirted with you in high school.” Suga laughed.

“You thought they were flirting? They just wanted my help with their homework.”

Daichi snorted.

“Yeah, right.”

Suga hummed, leaning to press a kiss to Daichi’s neck.

“Not like Michimiya always trying to get you to make the first move.”

“Michimiya?”

“Yeah Michimiya.”

“No, that’s not right.”

“Daichi you’re so dense.”

“Michimiya was not flirting with me.”

“She definitely asked me one time how to get you to ask her out.”

“You’re lying.”

Suga propped himself up on his elbows to glare at Daichi.

“Koushi, there’s no way,” Daichi told him, tiny flash of delight at the color seeping into Suga’s face when he used his given name. He liked how it felt to say it, although strange, unsure ‘Koushi’ would ever feel as natural as ‘Suga’.

“You’re infuriating you know that?”

“Even if she was,” Daichi said, earning him a gentle bite on his neck, he threatened to throw Suga off of him, Suga’s irritation melting at Daichi’s touch, giggling into his shoulder. “Even if she was, I only ever had eyes for you.”

“So sappy,” Suga said laying his head back down.

“You know, Asahi was right,” Daichi settling his arms around Suga on top of him like a vastly overgrown cat.

“I’ll ignore you said that.”

“I’m stupid when it comes to you. You’re my blind spot.”

“Is that your cute pet name for me? I was thinking I’ll call you honey bun,” Suga said into Daichi’s neck, his breath tickling.

“No, I’d pick something better, like…” Daichi trailed off thinking. Suga snickering.

“Honey bun.”

“How about sweetheart.”

“That’s mushy, like I’m a five year old girl,” Suga prodded him in the ribs.

“Koushi, I’m not good at this.”

Suga kissed his neck.

“Koushi works, makes me all giddy when you call me that.”

“Is that special though?”

“Special when you say it,” Suga murmured, “honeybun.” Daichi laughed.

“I can’t take you seriously when you call me that.”

Koushi’s eyes were shut, Daichi’s thumb tracing lazy circles against his shoulder, they’d finally picked a movie but had been mostly unsuccessful at paying any attention. Some part of him glad Daichi would let him go slow. It still seemed unreal, all of it, collectively, a fever dream. Halfway afraid he’d wake up in the hospital.

_Sugawara-san you’ve been in a terrible accident, you’ve been in a coma for six months, it must’ve been some dream you were having, you looked so happy._

“Koushi,” Daichi murmured against the side of his head, Daichi using his given name continued to give him goosebumps, an unfair advantage. “Are you still awake?” He opened his eyes squinting against the brightness of the blank tv screen casting them both in eerie blue light. He hummed an answer.

“Can you get off of me for a minute, my back is falling asleep.”

“Come sleep in my futon instead,” Koushi said pulling himself up, Daichi hissing in pain, running a hand along his spine. “Sorry.”

“I was just laying weird, not you,” Daichi promised, “Would it be alright?”

Koushi nodded rubbing his eyes and covering a yawn, he climbed off of the couch, shivering. The thermostat had dropped for the night, and he was cold without Daichi’s heat. Daichi got up slowly and Koushi turned off the tv. They retreated into his bed room, flopping down under the too cold comforter while Daichi refilled his water glass and then crawled in beside him. Koushi curled in against him and Daichi wrapped his arms around him. He smelled so good, like only Daichi smelled. Koushi closed his eyes and prayed the nurses wouldn’t wake him from the coma. Warm and warm and warm.

**\\\Monday**

Koushi woke very warm, one leg thrust out from beneath the comforter the other tangled up in Daichi’s legs, arm over his ribs. All of Daichi pressed against his back, Daichi’s breath a soft whisper against his neck. The heater had kicked on and sunshine was pouring in through the window. He’d had a lecture he was supposed to go to this morning. But he had decided last night during the movie, or at least during the parts where Daichi wasn’t making him lose track of his position in the space time continuum, that he didn’t really care to go to class this morning and had accordingly not set his alarm. His body had woken him up on time anyway, or perhaps it was the all-enveloping heat. Either way he kicked the comforter off hoping that would bring him back to a thermal equilibrium. Daichi shifted with a murmur and Koushi stilled not trying to wake him. Daichi sighed against his neck, pressing his lips there.

Koushi shut his eyes again, imagining waking up this way every morning, or at least not the overheating part, the soft kisses, the warm comfort, the steady feeling of Daichi’s heartbeat against his skin.

But Daichi had to go back to Sendai today.

That was it; the beginning, middle and end. Koushi squeezed his eyes shut trying to force the thought back out of his head, heavy sigh exhaling through his nose.

“Suga, I can feel you overthinking,” Daichi mumbled against his neck. Koushi froze.

“What kind of witch magic is that?” he asked, and with some effort untangled their legs so he could roll over. Daichi was blinking lazily at him, and Koushi kissed his nose.

“What is it?” Daichi asked him.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Daichi shut his eyes and groaned.

“Why’d you remind me?”

“You asked. I don’t want to think about it either,” Koushi said with a snicker. “Why don’t you just quit your job and stay in Tokyo.”

“When you say it like that it sounds so reasonable.”

Koushi punched Daichi gently in the ribs.

“Asshole,” he whispered, Daichi laughed softly this time, leaning forward to kiss him, pulling Koushi closer. Hands finding their way up beneath his t-shirt, want pulsing through Koushi, kissing Daichi deeper.

“S’okay?” Daichi asked, surfacing for breath. Koushi kissed him in answer, Daichi working his shirt up, Koushi wiggled his arms out and pressed himself closer to Daichi’s warmth, the air cold on his skin. Daichi rough palms skating up his sides, Koushi’s breathing ragged. Daichi trailing from his mouth, lips at his neck, his collarbone, Koushi gasping softly as Daichi kissed lower down his stomach.

“Daichi, Daichi,” he pleaded in a rasping voice, Daichi pausing lips against his hip bone.

“Stop?” he asked, breath ghosting over Koushi’s cold skin, fire was rippling under his skin. Koushi shutting his eyes on focusing on breathing. “You okay,” Daichi’s hands in his. “Koushi?”

“Okay,” Koushi agreed shivering a little.

“You cold?” Daichi said kissing his knuckles, his hands was cold and clammy in Daichi’s warm dry ones.

“A little.”

Daichi dragged the comforter back over them and went back to Koushi’s hips, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Koushi’s shorts.

“Daichi,” Koushi whimpered, his face was hot. Daichi stopped again.

“Koushi,” then Daichi had let him go pulling him closer again, kissing him softly. Koushi melted into that, fingers in Daichi’s hair.

“Little slower,” he mumbled against Daichi’s lips.

“Sure,” Daichi answered.

“I always, imagined this,” Koushi said covering his face, Daichi’s hands carefully tugging his shorts down, kissing his jaw.

“Is this better or worse?”

“Are you stupid?” Koushi asked gently cuffing his head, Daichi smiling at him. “Did- Did you…?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, Koushi flushed again.

“Better or worse?”

“Better,” Daichi answered with half a laugh, smiling wider. Koushi smiled back, then Daichi was touching him, kissing him again. Koushi unable to keep back the moan, flushing with the sensation. “Koushi, I love you,” Daichi said.

“Love you too,” mumbled Koushi, “honeybun.” Daichi laughed into Koushi’s mouth, Koushi pressing closer, so full, joy and love, tugging the comforter over their heads, laughing together.

“I’m going to cook you breakfast,” Daichi declared sometime later Koushi tucked against him, still shirtless and drowsy.

“No, you’re the guest, I’ll cook,” Koushi said rousing himself, pushing Daichi back down so that he could get up.

“I have today off, I don’t want to put out any fires,” Daichi said catching Koushi’s arm, the look on his face teasing a laugh out of Koushi.

“Why not? Fires aren’t a big deal,” Koushi said trying to tug himself free, “That’s what you’re here for isn’t it?” Daichi pulling him back down into his arms with a growl.

“Now I see why you want me,” he grumbled nipping at Koushi’s ear. Giggling Koushi pushed him off and Daichi escaped out of their warm nest. Koushi gasped with the loss of warmth, the vacancy beside him.

“Noooo Daichi.”

“You can stay there, I’ll bring it to you.”

Koushi tugged the big comforter around his shoulders watching Daichi disappear into the kitchen. But it wasn’t enough, after a couple of minutes, wrapped up he followed into the kitchen. Daichi had put on a sweatshirt, at the stove, frying rice.

“Are you a good cook or a bad cook?” Koushi asked creeping up behind him. Daichi jumped with a startled laugh, Koushi sliding his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Daichi kept stirring.

“Guess you’ll find out.”

Rice done, Daichi cooked two soft omelets one handed slowly flipping them before sliding them off the pan over top of the rice and split them open along the top with a knife.

“Show off,” Koushi complained into his ear. Daichi softly kicked him in the ankle, Koushi still attached to his back like a baby koala. Alternately kissing his neck and trying to distract him. Daichi prevailed carrying the two plates to the table.

They ate at the kotatsu, Suga welcomed Daichi into his blanket, sitting side by side. All Daichi could think about was how many hours he had left. How many chances remained to hear Suga laugh, or kiss him or bask in his sunshine warmth. Suga liberally applied hot sauce across the top of his omurice before digging in. He was practically vibrating when he took the first bite.

“You let me burn those pork cutlets on purpose,” he finally decided. “All this time you were watching me fail when you could’ve helped me.”

“This is literally the only thing I can cook.”

“Lies, you’re lying to me right now, Sawamura,” Suga said pinching Daichi’s arm.

“Stop that,” Daichi grabbed Suga’s plate out from under his chopsticks.

“No, no, give it back.”

“Can’t you just say you like it like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that, Daichi. You did let me burn the pork though.”

“I thought you knew what you were doing,” Daichi said relenting giving Suga back the plate. Suga took another bite with a happy sigh.

“You should know me better than that.”

“Well, I know now.”

“Did you not have class this morning?” Daichi asked when he’d cleared the omurice from his plate, Suga still working through his methodically.

“I did, but really what is one class,” Suga answered him with a shrug and a lopsided smile, “In the scope of human existence.”

“You skipped.”

“Don’t get all superior on me, we can’t all be goody two shoes like you.”

“I’m not,” Daichi said bumping Suga’s elbow. Suga leaned back in against him, the worry there like a tide coming in. “Koushi?”

“Hm?” Suga turned to him looking startled, mouth full of omelet.

“Let’s make a plan.”

“Alright, Captain.”

“Want me to pack you a bento for lunch on the train?”

“Is it going to give me food poisoning?”

Koushi slapped Daichi’s arm, who bent over with a laugh.

“Just kidding,” he wheezed. “Your food isn’t that bad.”

“You’re just trying to hit me where it hurts,” Koushi accused him.

“Maybe,” Daichi gave him a shy smile. He was trying to work the zipper of his duffle closed, somehow the clothes had stuffed back in differently and now the zipper would not close. Koushi leaned into Daichi, reaching to give it a go. The hoodie on top was making it impossible. He dragged it out and then with an effort zipped it shut.

“What am I going to do with that?” Daichi asked, he was already in a hoodie. Koushi considered it in his hands, before dragging it on over his head, sleeves reaching down to his knuckles.

“I’ll keep it safe for you.”

“That one’s my favorite though,” Daichi complained.

“Me or the hoodie?”

Daichi’s smile warmed and he hummed wrapping his arms around Koushi. The hoodie smelled like him and he smelled like him and everything was Daichi. Koushi shut his eyes getting lost in it.

“Both I suppose,” Daichi answered softly, hand resting on Koushi’s face and kiss him sweetly.

“Pick one.”

“I pick you,” Daichi didn’t hesitate.

\--

Leaving Tokyo was usually a special joy. Usually he got onboard the speed train back to Miyagi and couldn’t wait to be home in his own space, sleep in his own bed. But today all Daichi felt was sad. Even though he’d done it enough times that he was confident in finding the right platform Suga insisted on skipping his second lecture to make sure he didn’t get lost.

“I can see it now,” Suga had said tugging the beanie down over his ears as they put on their shoes in the genkan. “I get to class and twenty minutes later you’re texting me for directions.” 

Daichi didn’t have the heart to argue that, and then time in its cruelty seemed to pick up pace and they were at Tokyo Station and his express line to Miyagi was arriving in two minutes according to the overhead monitor. Suga was huddled beside him, even though they were indoors, there was still a chill flow of air from the tunnels with the arriving and departing trains.

“You’ll call right?” Suga asked beside him rubbing his hands together, his cheeks a splotchy red, his winter coat buttoned up over top of Daichi’s hoodie.

“I’ll call,” Daichi promised taking Suga’s hand in his own, his fingers icy. They’d spent their time after breakfast poring over schedules, Suga had a winter break but not for another two months, Daichi thought he could work out another weekend away from the firehouse. He’d just have to call in some favors. Thinking about it that way felt dismal, holding out for stolen moments.

“You know I’m justified to be worried right,” Suga continued, “I’m going to have trust issues.” He squeezed Daichi’s hand, the look on his face not entirely joking.

“I’ll call.”

“You’ll have to tell me a lot how much you love me,” Suga said with a familiar look on his face, lips twisting into a smile. “Tell me how handsome and talented I am.”

Daichi hummed, faking a thinking face about that statement. “I don’t know if I signed up for that.”

“At least remind me how great of a setter I am, that my team’s lucky to have me. That you’ve had the biggggggest crush on me forever,” Suga elbowed him wiggling his eyebrows.

“True,” Daichi said smiling at him. The overhead showed the train was arriving. He thought he could hear it down the track. He gripped Suga’s hand tighter, Suga rubbing his thumb over the back of his knuckles. _It’ll be okay._

“Kisses too when we’re together.”

“How could I forget?” Daichi leaned into him, Suga’s hands reaching up, settling cold against his cheeks. “Are you nervous?” Daichi asked, breathless.

“No I’m fucking freezing,” Suga whispered back.

“Let me warm you up,” Daichi took his hands in his own and kissed Suga again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 <3  
> Thanks for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it  
> Thank you also for all the love and support, I really appreciate all the comments even though I'm not always super great at responding to them  
> <3 <3 <3 <3


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